


Love in the Modern Age

by Fatale (femme)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21731941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: “Uh, come here often?” Alec managed.“To the elevator?” the man asked, eyebrows climbing upwards. The doors slid closed behind him, and they continued their painful ascent towards Alec’s floor. He seemed to notice that he was heading upwards and he cursed softly.Alec didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to spend any more time in an elevator with himself if he didn’t have to, either.“Yeah, no. I’m sorry,” Alec said, slumping forward over the handle of his mailcart. Ridiculous. The most beautiful man he’d ever seen and Alec insinuated that he regularly spent time hanging out in elevators.---a soulmate au
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 367
Kudos: 1013
Collections: Read





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t see why I have to marry my soulmate,” Alec says, looking at himself in the mirror miserably. He tugs at his jacket sleeves. They’re an inch too short but it was the best they could do on such short notice.

“You don’t have to do anything, but--“ Izzy looks around uneasily as if the soulmate police were going to rappel down from the ceiling and arrest Alec for being a crappy groom.

The church was beautiful, decked out in blooming flowers with gold accents, but Alec could barely see it. “--but no one doesn’t _not_ marry their soulmate.”

“He’s kind of boring,” Alec peevishly points out, knowing he was being kind of petty, but not able to bring himself to care.

Izzy looks like she’s fighting back a grin. “A little but so are you,” Izzy teases. “Besides, you wouldn’t be soulmates if there wasn’t _something_ you guys had in common.” She frowns, red lips pursed thoughtfully. “At least he’s polite.”

“Great. We can eat white bread and milk and be polite for the rest of our lives.”

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Izzy says, going serious. “Mom and Dad will be pissed, but they’ll survive. Can’t say the same for you, but I vow to shield you with my body.”

“That won’t be necessary but the offer is appreciated,” Alec says, forcing a smile. In the mirror, he looks pale, sickly, dark purple smudges beneath his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping well. “Besides, like you said – everyone marries their soulmate. And it’s what’s best for the family.” He sounds like he's desperately trying to convince himself, and he is.

Izzy sighs. She does that a lot when talking to Alec. “I wish you wouldn’t let that factor into your decision.”

Alec straightens his bowtie just to give himself something to do. On the wall, the clock ticks loudly. 

There's something slick and oily coiling in his gut, a bone-deep knowledge that this is _wrong, wrong, wrong_. He shrugs the feeling off. “No decision to make. I’m five minutes away from walking down the aisle.”

"Yeah," Izzy says, looking worried.

“I can’t believe this is happening," Alec mutters.

“Neither can I,” Izzy says. “Who would have thought when you guys met that you’d end up being soulmates?”

“No one,” Alec says. His body and soul feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. “Least of all me.”

\---

6 months ago:

\---

Alec stood in front of his mirror, straightening his tie. Another day at work as head of Research and Development at Lightwood Industries, digging into numbers and facts, anything to gain enough leverage to avoid engaging in a direct proxy fight with their newest targeted acquisition. His mom was livid that his dad had already made a tender offer directly to the shareholders, tipping their hand, so Alec was on a hell of a tight schedule. He had to prepare some lucrative offers to the top Executives of Bane Ltd to make sure they didn’t stand in the way of Lightwood Industries acquiring controlling interest at $36 a share. 

He should, through the power of nepotism and years of dedication, probably be higher up the food chain by now, but in truth, he preferred to take a step back from the limelight. Let Jace flash his megawatt smile and go in for the kill. Alec liked to attack from a distance. If Jace was a shark scenting blood in the water, then Alec was the harpoon. 

If his plan – that could, in the most flattering light, be considered bribery, and if not outright illegal, was at least highly unethical – didn’t work, Alec had a backup plan in place to file an injunction to have Bane Ltd’s entire Board of Directors fired as part of a proxy battle, something he didn’t want to do unless his hand was forced. 

When Alec arrived at his desk fifteen minutes early, and at least an hour before anyone else, he huffed in annoyance at the empty desktop. His mail _still_ hadn’t been delivered and he was waiting for important documents. It seemed like he was just going to have to go get them himself. With a sigh, he slung his jacket down on the corner of his desk and stalked towards the elevators. The mail delivery room was located in the basement down by the billing department and that weird woman that always made pimento cheese for office parties.

When he got down to the basement, the mailroom was empty and Alec shuffled through the stacks until he found his name. Directly beneath his mail was Jace’s and Underhill’s, the new guy that started a couple of weeks ago. Since he had to pass their offices to get to his, Alec figured that he might as well grab theirs on his way. Maybe they had important stuff they were waiting on too, he thought, collecting Jace’s mail, which at first glance, seemed to be stuffed full of lingerie catalogs. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Alec mumbled, awkwardly trying not to put his hand directly on the model’s breasts.

Balancing the large armfuls of mail, Alec quickly realized it wasn’t going to work. So he grabbed one of the empty mailcarts from the corner and dumped the whole mess into it, then rolled it to the elevator, pushing the button with more force than was strictly necessary. Already, his day was ridiculous.

The elevator dinged and Alec unthinkingly rushed into the elevator, nearly running straight into Underhill and only just swerving enough to avoid flattening him at the last minute. Underhill put his hands up, on hand brushing across his chest in order to steady Alec, who’d nearly lost his footing and faceplanted on the shiny tile. “Hey, where’s the fire?”

“Sorry,” Alec said, embarrassed. “Thanks, uh, for that.” He nodded at Underhill’s arm curled around his bicep.

Underhill took a step back, and Alec cleared his throat. “What are you doing down here.”

“Just came to get my mail on my way in.” At his feet, there was a shiny leather briefcase, and he had an expensive wool-blend coat folded over one arm. His hair was styled in loose waves and he had the general air of unstudied elegance; the kind of bastard that rolled out of bed looking artfully tousled. Alec would hate him if his general air wasn’t so blandly appealing. Truth be told, he’d started at the company nearly a month ago, but Alec actually knew very little about him, just as he knew very little about any of his co-workers. As it turned out, working seventy hours a week wasn’t great for your general health or social life.

“Oh,” Alec said, brightening, “I’ve got it.”

“I see that,” he said, blinking down at Alec’s mailcart. “New job?”

“I guess,” Alec said, “if this is the only way we’re ever going to get our mail.”

“There’s a new mail clerk starting today.”

“Oh?” He did not know.

“There was a memo,” Underhill said helpfully.

“Ah,” Alec said, at a bit of a loss. It never seemed to stop astounding people that Alec could regularly beautifully orchestrate hostile takeovers of billion-dollar companies but couldn’t remember the difference between pepperoni or pastrami. To Alec’s way of thinking, he had a very narrow focus; he remembered what was important and forgot everything else. “Underhill,” Alec said, fishing his mail from the center of the pile and shoving the stack towards him. Yeah, he made a great mail clerk.

“You know it creeps me out when you only use my last name,” Underhill said mildly, flipping through his mail without looking up.

Alec did not actually recall Underhill’s name, despite having read it less than five seconds ago. But he was too embarrassed to admit it. His brain scrambled for some kind of excuse like, I have temporary amnesia and it just affects names, but he had already used Underhill’s last name, hadn’t he?

“It’s Andrew,” Underhill said, glancing up at Alec with an exasperated grin, blue eyes amused. 

He was about to answer him when the bell dinged and the doors opened. A man strode in, coat billowing behind him, hands balled into angry fists. It was a very dramatic entrance, especially given the dopey instrumental cover of _Copacabana_ playing overhead. Alec blinked at him stupidly, slowly taking him from the feet, all the way up to his dark, startled eyes. Which were staring right back at Alec.

Alec felt his face flush bright red. No matter how hard he tried, he never could perfect his poker face. 

When Andrew coughed behind him, Alec realized he’d been staring.

“Uh, come here often?” Alec managed.

“To the elevator?” the man asked, eyebrows climbing upwards. The doors slid closed behind him, and they continued their painful ascent towards Alec’s floor. He seemed to notice that he was heading upwards and he cursed softly. 

Alec didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to spend any more time in an elevator with himself if he didn’t have to, either.

“Yeah, no. I’m sorry,” Alec said, slumping forward over the handle of his mailcart. Ridiculous. The most beautiful man he’d ever seen and Alec insinuated that he regularly spent time hanging out in elevators. Alec should go back to his paperwork. His probability of embarrassing himself would decrease by at least 75%.

“I was here for a meeting,” the man said, expression softening. Despite his intimidating appearance, he was surprisingly soft-spoken. “Needless to say, it didn’t go well.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Alec said sincerely. He’d had those days when everything seemed to go wrong. Actually, a great many of his days went that way and Alec didn’t know if that said more about him or the universe in general. 

“So am I,” the man said thoughtfully. He shot Underhill a quick glance, then leaned forward, shoving right up into Alec’s space. Alec could smell him; some kind of warm, spicy scent. The man reached forward, placing a gentle hand on his chest, right above his pounding heart. “You know, you seem like a good kid, so I’m going to give you a piece of advice--” Magnus straightened his gold tie clip. His rings glinted in the flinty elevator light. He was devastatingly beautiful. “Find another job. You work for assholes.”

Two things happened simultaneously: The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open, revealing his floor and Alec belatedly remembered that he was holding onto a mailcart full of letters. Well, his humiliation was complete. 

The man took a step back and gestured towards the open doors.

Mechanically, Alec pushed the trolley through, Underhill following behind. 

At the last minute, almost against his will, Alec looked back just in time to see the beautiful man wink at him as the doors slid closed. 

“He thinks you’re the mailman,” Underwood unhelpfully pointed out. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” Alec said, staring helplessly at the elevator.

“Maybe if you’re lucky, he has a thing for mailcarts.”

“Jesus, Underhill,” Alec swore. “No more first name for you.”

“I can live with it,” Underhill said, still grinning. He slapped Alec on the back and laughed all the way towards his office.

At least, Alec thought, he would never have to see the man again. 

\---

After a boring day wrapping some cases up and making very little headway towards his new enviable goal of bribery and corruption, Alec decided to call it a day. Outside his glass office walls, the rest of the floor was silent and dark, an occasional desk lamp illuminating the darkness, and highlighting just how alone he really was. Everyone else had gone home hours ago, but Alec had no compelling reason to go home rather than a bottle of wine and Netflix. Livin’ the glamorous single life, Alec thought with a grimace, decidedly gathering his coat. He made a half-hearted attempt at shuffling his papers into tidier stacks but gave up after a few seconds. His desk, like his life, would always be a little messy, a little frayed around the edges. He did the best he could. 

Alec slipped on his coat and grabbed his briefcase, laden down with too much work he planned to do over the weekend. He rode the elevator down, trying not to think of the gorgeous man from earlier. He would never see him again, and it did Alec no good to dwell on his various little humiliations. 

Once outside, in the cold night air, the sky rumbled disapprovingly and lightning split the sky. Alec looked up just in time for a big fat raindrop to splattering into his eye. “Ow, fuck,” Alec said, slapping a hand over his eye. Could this day get any worse? As if in answer, a cab sped by, slinging rainwater onto the bottom of his pants and shoes, soaking through to his socks.

“Of course,” Alec said. “Of fucking course.”

\---

At home, Alec set his sopping wet briefcase down and headed into the bathroom to change. He had just stripped off his jacket and was slinging it over his shower curtain rod when there was a knock on the door. 

Alec yanked the door open. “Hey, I don’t want to join any religious cult, so why don’t you just fuck off--”

Izzy was waiting, holding an enormous box of pizza, eyebrow raised. “You kiss your momma with that mouth?”

“No,” Alec said, momentarily flummoxed into silence. The idea of kissing his mom was utterly foreign to him. Maryse wasn’t big on affection and neither was he. She said he’d inherited the trait from her, but privately, Alec thought it was probably learned. Most bad traits were.

Though Lately, Alec hadn’t been kissing anyone at all, and that was a large part of his problem. He was incredibly, incredibly horny.

Izzy laughed, pushing her way into Alec’s apartment. “I knew you’d be at home on a Friday night.”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Alec mumbled. He stood aside and watched Izzy dump the pizza on his coffee table, then flop down on the couch, utterly making herself at home. When he’d first moved in, he’d been afraid that Izzy and Jace wouldn’t know what to do with themselves without him watching over him, and he’d encouraged them to come over when they felt like it and consider his home to be theirs. Of course, nine years later and they still treated his apartment like theirs. Possibly, he should get the locks changed. “You’re free on a Friday night,” Alec pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’m a badass,” Izzy said, grabbing a slice and folding it over before taking a huge bite.

His suit was mostly dry now, so he supposed he could change into his ratty pajamas later. He grabbed a couple of beers from his refrigerator, popped the tops, and slid one across the coffee table to Izzy. He took a slice of pizza and slumped down on the couch next to her. It was good, cheese hot and melty, nothing fancy. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since he’d had a hasty salad nearly eight hours ago. He washed his food down with a gulp of his cold beer. All in all, this wasn’t a bad way to spend the evening, he thought, feeling himself relax.

In-between inhaling bites, Izzy grabbed the remote control and started flipping through the tv stations before settling on a show.

“Oh, hey,” she said. “I love this one.” She settled back onto the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles.

Alec narrowed his eyes at the tv, watching. From what he could gather, it was a show where a bachelor met three hundred women, one of which was bound to be his soulmate. And for whatever reason, they did obstacle courses while naked.

“This is offensive,” Alec complained. He grabbed another piece of pizza and folded it over, taking a huge bite.

“Hush,” Izzy said. “They’re getting to the good part where they’re playing naked twister while trying not to touch.”

The actual touching was saved for sweeps week, where the bachelor would touch each woman’s shoulder. Hypothetically, beneath his hand, a dark black handprint would bloom beneath his touch, his perfect soulmate. Then they’d get married, have exhausting Instagram accounts, and be micro-influencers and ride that train of mediocrity as long as possible, he supposed. 

“You know this is rigged, right?” Alec said, feeling particularly grumpy. The topic of soulmates always did strike a sour note with him. “The producers couldn't possibly know that one of the girls is his soulmate, nevermind guarantee it.”

Izzy huffed, “God, Alec, did you get born without a fun gene?”

“Yeah, I left it in my other pair of pants. The dry ones,” Alec shot back, grimacing at the screen, his pizza forgotten.

The whole phenomenon of soulmates was secretive, shrouded in mystery and not a little bit of shame. Possibly because the vast majority of people would never meet their soulmate, instead, having to settle for whatever hum drudgery stupid destiny cooked up. Which was to say, no one knew much about them other than they were some mystical connection between two people whose souls were destined to be together. 

“Soulmates are bullshit,” Alec insisted. “Look, only 25% of the population even has a soulmate. And what if you never meet them?”

Or worse, Alec privately thought, what if you did? Only the very fortunate first met their soulmates through a handshake or back pat, like his parents. It was highly inconvenient and at times, embarrassing at others. Nothing like meeting at a kissing booth or getting slapped by your soulmate and ending up with a smudgy handprint streaked across your cheek for the rest of your life. And it was considered borderline gauche to go around flashing your soulmate mark, kind of like wearing large diamonds or wiping your ass with money. Why flaunt what most people would never be fortunate enough to get?

That was part of the issue with soulmates, along with the fact that Alec didn’t have time to date, and the only thing that kept him from having anonymous one night stands was the abject fear that he would have a black handprint on his dick and never be able to find his soulmate again, and then he would have to spend the rest of his life having to explain to intimate partners why he had a sooty handprint on his dick.

Izzy sighed. “Look, the topic of soulmates is so appealing to people because life is complicated and there are very few guarantees. Wouldn’t it be nice to know, to have an absolute guarantee that you’re making the right choice? Can’t you see the appeal in that?”

“I guess,” Alec admitted. “It’s still rigged and a stupid show.”

Izzy grunted and grabbed a napkin, wiping her greasy hands. “I think it’s kind of romantic.”

“I thought you were a badass,” Alec said mildly.

“I can be both,” Izzy answered.

When they were done eating, Izzy got up with a gusty sigh. Shockingly, the bachelor did not find his soulmate but Alec was pretty sure that he would next week. He will probably have to tune in to see next week and that’s how reality programming gets you.

Izzy tossed their empties and the pizza box in the trash. Folding it over and jamming it into the bin, more like it, and Alec will just have to wrestle it out in the morning, but he thanked her anyway. For that and the dinner and the company.

“De nada,” Izzy said breezily and grabbed her coat. Standing at the door, Alec kissed Izzy on the cheek. Unexpectedly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down, her voice weirdly urgent. “Don’t give up, okay? Alec? I know your life isn’t exactly what you thought it would be, but you could still meet your soulmate.”

“Iz--” Alec started, feeling tired, but she interrupted him.

“I see you giving up. And I think it’s easier to tell yourself that you don’t want something than to be disappointed when you don’t get it.”

His heart suddenly felt like it had been gripped in a fist. Without meaning to, she had pressed on a bruise he’d been carrying for decades. “I think that ship’s sailed for me,” he answered quietly. It wasn’t that he was necessarily too old to find a soulmate, even though most found theirs in their teens – it was more that if only 25% had soulmates and less than five percent actually met theirs, then why would he think he would be special enough? He had long ago resigned himself to being lonely.

“The real reason people believe in soulmates is that they need hope, Alec. The world’s just too goddamn grim without hope.”

Alec took a deep breath. If a tornado could reverse direction and the earth’s poles could flip, then maybe there was hope for his love life too. “Okay. Okay, I might meet my soulmate one day. But if there’s still hope for me, then there’s hope for you too.”

Izzy grinned up at him. “I can live with that,” she said before turning and pulling her hood up, wandering down the hall.

Alec closed the door behind her and on his way to the bedroom, tripped over his briefcase. Maybe he’d had a little more to drink than he thought. He grimaced down at the reminder that he was still wearing his stiff, crumpled suit.

In the middle of his living room, he shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it across the back of the couch and stepped out of his pants, padding across the apartment to the bedroom. Usually, he was fastidious with his clothes, but maybe Izzy was right, and he could afford to be a tiny bit reckless. He went to his dresser and pulled out his raggedy flannel pajamas, and slipped into the pants. At last, he yanked his shirt over his head and was beginning to pull his sleep shirt on when he caught sight of his bare chest in the dresser mirror and stopped short. His mouth hung open in a no-doubt highly unattractive fashion, but none of that mattered bit because, on his chest, there was a perfectly formed handprint above his heart. 

“Holy fuck,” Alec said, feeling his knees go weak. All the dopey stories were true, and Alec didn’t even have to compete on a naked reality show for it. That gorgeous guy in the elevator was his soulmate.

Alec traced a finger over the black outline above his heart. “Huh.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Alec woke up, it took him a full five minutes to remember the events from last night, and heart-pounding, he jumped up from the bed and ran to the dresser mirror, staring at the bold black print on his chest. Alec held his hand up over it, matching his fingers up. The hand was a little smaller than his, but not by much. He wondered what it might be like to hold his soulmate’s hand.

He thought about calling Izzy, but she would be unbearably smug about being right, and he didn’t have time to discuss it anyway. Alec was eye-balls deep in working on a hostile takeover of a company named Bane Ltd. Alc’s family bought a controlling interest in companies, then dismantled them, selling them off piece by piece. It usually left the employees jobless and destroyed the livelihoods of the CFOs. It was not unlike a shark devouring minnows. It was a nasty business, but somebody had to do it, Alec supposed.

He had an early morning meeting that he was entirely unprepared for, and no time to sit around daydreaming about holding hands with a stranger. After this merger, he would concentrate on tracking that man from the elevator down, and getting to know him. Maybe figure out this soulmate thing together. There would be time for him to take care of himself later. He tried not to think about the fact that he had been telling himself this for years, but his mom needed him in the meeting. In every life, there were winners and losers. And the silent people that held the winners upon their shoulders. He was that person, and he was grateful to be needed.

Alec sighed, glancing at his mark one more time before getting ready for work.  
  
  
\---

  
  
The main conference room was a chrome and glass soulless affair. Alec preferred the heavy oak wood of some of the smaller conference rooms, but they were in the process of being renovated. Besides, he knew what the main conference room meant: Maryse wanted a show of power. She sat at the head of the table, tapping her gloved hands. Her soulmate mark was from where she’d first shaken hands with their father and Alec had only seen it a handful of times growing up. He’d never seen his father's, even though he also wore matching black leather gloves.

Alec grabbed his files and hurried to the elevator, punching the button to the top floor. He filed into the conference room, followed by Underhill. “What’s this about?” he murmured under his breath.

“They got a heads up about the buyout and now they’re trying to make some desperate last-minute negotiations.”

“Sad,” Underhill said with a snort. “Why don’t they just accept that bigger companies are going to eat smaller companies? It’s natural selection at work, man.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Alec replied. He privately thought that there was something kind of noble about not refusing to gentle into that good night. Sure. Lightwood Industries would eventually step on them like a beetle, but some companies did not want to be stepped on, despite the enormous pressure and power. There was something kind of beautiful about that.  
  
  
Alec slipped into a chair next to Maryse, preparing himself to defend his lack of success on the takeover. As it turned out, the executives on the board were weirdly loyal to Magnus Bane. So Alec was prepared to oust them, he just needed more time.

Maryse’s gloves made a dull pitter-patter against the table that set Alec’s teeth on edge. As usual, she looked pristine, her hair swept back from her face, high arched eyebrows. She looked like the dark verse version of Izzy. He leaned closer. “So, who are we expecting from the board of directors?”

Maryse’s mouth tilted up at the corners, but she didn’t look happy. “Magnus Bane himself.”

Alec sat back in his chair. “Wow.” Usually, executives preferred to hide from them when they heard Lightwood Industries had taken an interest. But then again, nothing about the company was proving easy or predictable.

“Apparently, he’s taken great objection to our trying to acquire his company and he’d like to make some more baseless threats.”

“You’ve met with him before?”

Alec didn’t have a Spidey Sense, exactly, but he did have a sense when shit was about to slide sideways. Which was a great deal of the time. He sometimes felt like his life consisted of running between one fire to the next. It wasn’t necessarily a pleasant way to live, but it was something. It gave him a sense of purpose, if not belonging. Kind of like a lifelong hired nanny. Part of the family but still an employee.

At Maryse’s nod, Alec managed to choke out, “When?”

She didn’t have time to answer before a man came striding in, followed by half a dozen other people in sharp suits.  
It took him a few seconds to react. It was the beautiful man from the elevator, his soulmate. And it was also the man whose company he was trying to dismantle.

Well, this was awkward.

As Magnus scanned the table, Alec saw the moment Magnus recognized him. His gaze snagged on Alec and his lips thinned before he smoothed down his tie and took a seat across from Maryse at the opposite end of the table. They looked like players at a chess table, each sizing each other up.

Alec was uncomfortably aware that the setup made him a pawn. Or, more humiliatingly accurate, the queen.

Alec didn’t feel unlike an observer in an old west gunfight. In this gunfight, Alec had the feeling that he would be the unfortunate saloon owner, always the first to be shot. He slumped down in his chair a bit.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Bane,” Maryse said, her tone making it clear that it was anything but.

Growing up, Alec had been on the receiving end of that tone more often than he cared to recall. It did have a habit of knocking a few inches off his height. Luckily, he had plenty to spare.

In response, Magnus’ back straightened. “Ms. Lightwood.”

Maryse gestured at Alec. “My son.”

For the first time, Magnus acknowledged Alec directly, nodding at him. “We’ve---met. In a fashion.”

“I’m sure that’s a very entertaining story.”

“Not really,” Alec was hasty to interject. He could feel himself sweating, sure that everyone could see the soul mark on his chest.

“Why don’t we get back to the business topic at hand?” Maryse said.

“Yes,” Magnus agreed.

He looked as good as Alec remembered. Alec wasn’t a sartorial disaster, but it wouldn’t have even occurred to him to mix and match the patterns and colors that Magnus had. There was something very effortless about it, but it wasn’t the man that made the clothes, it was the ease with which he wore it. Alec couldn’t imagine being so comfortable in his own skin. The mark above his heart burned.

Magnus adjusted his tie, a move that Alec was beginning to realize signified that he was about to do something incredibly reckless.

“I don’t think we need to pretend--” Magnus began.  
  
“Mr. Bane,” one of his suited companions interjected, but Magnus held up a hand, his rings glinting in the sunlight. Alec remembered what it was like to feel that hand resting over his heart, and he pressed his own sweaty palms onto the glass tabletop.

“I’m still the boss,” Magnus said cooly, “until I’m told otherwise.” Magnus leaned back in his chair, looking utterly relaxed, a move designed to infuriate his mother. Alec looked down to hide his smile; he could feel Magnus looking at him, his gaze lingering like a caress. “The work we do at Bane Ltd. is important. It might be a small medical tech company, but we _help_ people.” He held out a hand, and one of his assistants handed him a folder. Magnus flipped it open and pulled out a sheet, spinning it around on the glass and smoothly sliding it towards Maryse. “This is how many people will be affected by our company being dismantled. We help subsidize the cost of the products we bring to market."

Obligingly, Maryse took the form, scanning it over, but Alec knew she was familiar with the figures. Alec had compiled them himself.

“It would be unconscionable to do this.”

“She knows,” Alec said quietly. “It doesn’t matter.”

Magnus looked up at Alec in surprise.

“ _Alexander_ ,” Maryse said harshly.

“You could--” Alec started, feeling reckless.

“That’s enough,” Maryse interrupted, turning to him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to step out of this room right now.”

He was basically being sent to his room while the grownups talked business. He saw Underhill shoot him a sympathetic look, which just made his acute embarrassment worse. He didn’t dare look at Magnus.  
Alec closed the door behind him and took the elevator to the ground floor where there was a coffee cart, where he picked up the blackest, hottest coffee they could manage, then got back on the elevator until he reached the top. Then he made his way up the side stairs and on to the roof.

This was where he used to go when he started at the company and felt overwhelmed. There was something comforting about knowing that the world could carry on without him, that his successes and failures were small in the grand scheme of things. He did not actually carry the weight of the world on his shoulders; it just felt like it sometimes.

It had been a while since he’d felt the need, but lately, he’d been coming up here more and more to clear his head.

Alec has been helping his family wreck companies and destroy livelihoods for the better part of a decade, but it had never bothered him quite like it did today. Maybe it was his soulmate mark at work. It was making him soft.

He was deep in thought when he heard the door creak as someone stepped out onto the roof. Alec turned around at the sound and then stopped. It was Magnus. “How did you find me up here?”  
  
“Your handsome friend told me where you were."  
  
“Underhill?” Alec said absently. He hadn’t known Underhill had been watching him that closely.  
  
“You think he’s handsome?” Magnus narrowed his eyes.  
  
“I—guess?” He’d never given it more than a passing thought and it was hard to think about Underhill when Magnus was standing here in front of him. God, he really looked good – dressy, well-fitted suit, but a tiny row of studs up his left ear. Alec took a noisy slurp of his coffee.

“Not the mail clerk, huh?”

“Not so much.”

“So, you just let me embarrass myself,” Magnus said.

Alec studied Magnus carefully. For better or worse, this was his soulmate, even if Magnus didn’t know it yet. Alec had never touched Magnus back. “Are you really embarrassed?” Alec said. “You strike me as a man of great confidence.”

Magnus’ hand crept up to fiddle with his earrings. “Do I? Why’s that.”

Alec hesitated. He wasn’t exactly keen to remind Magnus of their tenuous connection, but he wasn’t a man built for this delicate dance of words. He was a man built for honesty, no matter what it cost him. “It takes a lot to stand up to my mother.”

Magnus seemed about to say something but changed his mind at the last minute. “Honesty deserves honesty, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”

“About your last question-- I wasn’t embarrassed, I was thrilled to find out you weren't the mail clerk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage when I asked you out.”

He startled a laugh out of Alec, and something warm settled in the pit of Alec’s stomach, some unknown dread receded. He liked his soulmate; he genuinely enjoyed Magnus’ company.

Magnus looked up at Alec through sooty dark eyelashes. “Yeah, you can make it up to me?”

Even though he knew it was a terrible idea, just the absolute worst, Alec was intrigued. “How?” he asked curiously.

Magnus grinned his secret, Cheshire-cat grin. “Drinks?”

“Don’t you think that’s a conflict of interest?”

“Only if you're my enemy.”

Alec didn't know what he was to Magnus, but he definitely wasn't that. It was as if his mouth was moving of its own accord and before he realized it, Alec heard himself saying, “Yeah, what time?”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Alec checked his reflection one last time before leaving his apartment to jog the two blocks to the bar they agreed to meet at.

The wind had kicked up, and his leather jacket wasn’t quite enough to deflect the chill, but he was dressed to impress. Though, technically -- even if Magnus didn’t know it yet -- they were like, already destined to be together forever in perfect happiness or whatever. What Alec wore hardly mattered, though Alec still didn’t want to be that one poor bastard that got rejected by his soulmate for dressing like a slob. 

Alec still didn't know what to make of the whole soulmate phenomenon, but he was kind of glad to know he had one. That he wasn’t damaged in that particular way just yet.

He reached the bar five minutes late, stepping out of the cool night air and into the bar. It was warm, packed with low light and humid with too many bodies. He couldn’t help but notice that Magnus had chosen someplace nice, a little bit upscale, but decidedly casual – just the kind of place that would appeal to Alec. 

Alec scanned the small space and nearly immediately spotted Magnus sitting at the bar, the broad expanse of his back juxtaposed with his narrow waist, covered in what Alec could only describe as shiny fancy material. No matter where he went, Alec thought -- elevator, meeting, in public -- Mangus stood out, like he carried some innate grace within that set him apart from everyone else. Alec was just a little floored that someone like this could be his soulmate.

Just in time to catch Alec staring like a great big creeper, Magnus looked over his shoulder and met eyes with Alec. Whatever there was between them, whatever thread of possibility existed, Alec had never felt it more acutely than at that moment -- that electric shiver, right down to his bones. Alec swallowed and felt sweat prickle at his temples; he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Magnus saw when he looked at him.

Magnus smiled warmly at him as Alec approached. “Didn’t know if you’d show.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” Alec answered honestly, shucking off his jacket and slinging it over the empty barstool next to him. He’d almost turned back half a dozen times, but curiosity propelled him forward. That, and a profound need to know what all this soulmate business was about.

Magnus was sipping from an electric blue cocktail and he slid a sweating glass across the bar towards him. “I took the liberty of ordering you a drink.”

Alec glanced down at the dark amber liquid, a grin tugging at his lips. “That was a bold move to order a drink for someone when you didn’t know if they would show up or not.”

“I’d hoped,” Magnus said simply, hands folded together on top of the bar. He was better looking than Alec remembered, if that was at all possible.

Alec took a sip of his beer to distract himself – cold, frothy on top, crisp with the bitter aftertaste of hops. It wasn’t his normal drink of choice, but like the man in front of him – it was full of surprises. “It’s good.”

Magnus smiled into his drink, a small private thing. “You seemed like a beer man.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Compliment, definitely,” Magnus said easily. “It’s a microbrew – classic with an unexpected twist.”

“Not sure if that describes me, either,” Alec admitted ruefully, taking another sip. It was a bitter brew, but it was full tasting and sharp, and all the more appealing for its unexpected complexity. In a way, it was flattering that Magnus thought of him like this. He could have just as easily ordered him a stodgy old fashioned, and Alec wouldn’t have argued that point, either. 

But he had a feeling that Magnus enjoyed being surprised.

“Hmmm,” Magnus said. His ringed finger drew rings in the moisture on top of the bar. “People come in all different flavors.”

Alec felt his eyebrows try to crawl into his hair. “Yeah? Do tell.”

Magnus spun around in the barstool, leaning back with his elbows perches easily on the bar top as he scanned the room. With a minute jerk of his head, he indicated a guy sitting in the corner. He was wearing a coat that looked suspiciously like a cat Alec had as a child. 

“That guy – he’s --”

“A basket case?”

“Oh, do try not to judge so harshly, darling.” Magnus’ mouth quirked. “He’s – well, let’s call him a Fuzzy Navel.”

Alec laughed, loose and easy, very nearly surprising himself. Something about Magnus felt _right,_ like the final puzzle piece clicking into place when you’d thought the entire thing already finished. It had to be the soulbond, Alec told himself. People just didn’t go around feeling all this affection for random people. How would they get anything _done_? “Too easy, Bane.”

When he glanced over, Magnus was blinking at Alec, looking a little stunned. 

“Try again?” Alec offered, confused about what he had done wrong.

Magnus shook his head slightly. “Okay.” He scanned the room again, tapping his fingers nervously against the bartop. His rings hit the surface with a heavy, staccato weight. 

Alec pointed to a portly man in the corner. “And him?” 

Magnus snorted. “A stout.”

Alec laughed quietly. “So do all men have flavors?” Alec asked, feeling bold.

“Certainly,”’ Magnus replied. “And I think I very much like yours.”

“What do you know of mine?”

“Well, I already know what it is that you do for a living,” Magnus said, wryly. “But let’s not talk business tonight.”

“That sounds great,” Alec agreed.

They drank in silence for a moment, the conversations around them a comforting hum. 

“So,” Magnus said, “what do you like to do for fun?”

“Work,” Alec answered unthinkingly. 

Magnus blinked at him. “That’s hardly fun.”

“Depends on how much you enjoy work,” Alec replied, feeling like a loser.

He didn’t know why he said that; he did not actually _like_ his job. He didn’t actively dislike it either. It was more that his life was floating by on a placid sea of _fineness_ , and Alec saw no reason to rock the proverbial boat. After all, things _might_ get better, but they could always be worse. If ambivalence was a club, he was president, vice president, treasurer, and secretary.

“Touche.” Magnus grinned into his drink. Alec tried and failed not to notice how spectacularly appealing he looked like that. He looked around. “So, I have reservations in a half an hour for a little Italian bistro down the street. Low lights, cozy booths, mind-blowing panna cotta. Very romantic. I would very much like for you to join me."

“Reservations for two?” Magnus nodded. “So, I take it that I passed the first phase of this date?” Alec asked dryly. 

“What can I say? I’m a cautious man.”

Alec studied Magnus closely. This was the same person that asked out the son of his greatest enemy, the man that risked his own inheritance to start up a medical company when he was considered unfinanceable by the banks. He had done his research; he knew that Magnus had gambled every last cent he had for a possibility of a future. “Are you?”

“No,” Magnus admitted, wincing. He picked up his drink and drained the last of it. “Not nearly as much as I should be, or so my friends are always saying.”

It only took a second for Alec to make up his mind. Maybe Alec would come to regret it, but for now, he felt brave. Once again, bolstered by Magnus’ example, Alec decided to do something selfish, just because he felt like it. Taking risks, drinking with the enemy: Alec barely recognized himself these days.

“Lead the way,” Alec said.

\---

He enjoyed the night more than he’d thought he would. Magnus was warm, kind, exciting, and sexy. As far as soulmates went, he felt pretty lucky. His soulmate could have been a taxidermist or a foot fetishist. 

He ate too much pasta, drank too much wine, and Magnus was right -- the panna cotta was to die for. The cream had been infused with hazelnuts overnight and the chilled dessert was served with pulverized raspberries with slivers of bitter dark chocolate.

All in all, it was probably the best first date he could ever remember having. 

The problem with a big meal was, Alec reflected, that stepping outside into the night afterward was a miserable thing, no matter the company. He zipped his leather jacket all the way up, hesitating beneath a single streetlamp. 

Magnus leaned close as they did the awkward goodnight shuffle of would he invite Magnus back to his place or not? Would they kiss? “Good night, Alexander.”

Magnus reached out towards him.

It was tempting. It had been so long since Alec had gotten laid, he wasn’t sure if he’d even remember what to do a dick, but Magnus was his _soulmate_. Sleeping with him would be a big step, and it required more thought than the current one now thudding through his veins, including one great big one that was obscuring his more rational thoughts.

Alec took a stumbling step back, reflexively yanking his hand away from Magnus’ before he could make contact.

Was this the soul bond at work? If it was, then how could he ever trust Magnus’ feelings for him? How could he trust his own?

Also, Alec’s whole family was hellbent on purchasing controlling interest and subsequently destroying Magnus’ company.

There was also that awkward fact.

Magnus looked hurt for one second before swiftly covering it with a rakish grin. It was charming, a little distant, and not at all genuine.

“Magnus--” Alec said, wrapping his arms around himself, hugging them tightly to keep from reaching out to Magnus. “Let me explain.”

“There’s really no need,” Magnus said, voice silky smooth. “I misread the situation.” He was staring off into the distance; he wouldn’t quite meet Alec’s eyes.

Alec licked his lips. He wasn’t exactly a savant with words, but he could see Magnus closing himself off, and he had one shot to get this _right._ “I don’t want to rush into anything. I-I think you could be something important.” He added hastily, “You know, to me.”

There was a ghost of a smile on Magnus’ mouth when he turned back to Alec. “Thanks for clearing that up. I was worried you meant the waiter.”

Alec ducked his head shyly. “Yeah.”

Magnus grinned very suddenly.“Of course, I wouldn’t ever want to rush you into anything.”

It was the perfect answer for a soulmate, Alec thought, another hint of doubt slowly creeping in. He didn’t know if Magnus was someone he could love without a soulbond, and he thought they both deserved to know that answer before getting in any deeper than they already were. I had a good night,” he said finally, scraping the toe of his boot against the pavement. It was a silly nervous gesture carried on from childhood, one that always made Izzy squeeze his arm affectionately and his mother grit her teeth.

“So did I,” Magnus said, taking a hesitant step forward. When Alec didn’t object, Magnus leaned closer and Alec could feel the warmth of his breath against his cheek as he said, “Call me if you want to do it again.”

He drew back and turned to leave.

“Magnus,” Alec called out.

He stopped and tilted his head towards Alec, listening.

“I want to do it again.”

He gave Alec another one of those shattering grins. “Good answer.”

\---

Alec barely made it through the front door of his apartment in time to catch the phone ringing. When he picked up, it was Izzy.

“Where were you?” Izzy asked suspiciously. 

“In the bathroom,” Alec lied, phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder. He took off his jacket. It still smelled a bit like the bar and marinara, a bit like the spicy aftershave Magnus wore. Alec had to physically force himself to toss the jacket down on the couch and not smell it like some lovesick teenaged fool.

“You were in the bathroom for two hours?” Izzy asked. “I called twice, you great big faker.”

“Okay, Okay, I was on a date,” Alec admitted.

“Oh my god!” 

Alec could practically hear her excitement over the phone. And didn’t it just say terribly unflattering things about his love life that the simple fact was enough to spawn such disbelieving joy.

“I don’t even know if it’s going to go anywhere,” Alec said, feeling grumpy.

“Seriously, _you_ , a date?”

“You don’t have to say it in such a shocked tone,” Alec said irritably. He was aware that it had been a long time since he’d had a relationship, and even longer since he’d had one that he genuinely enjoyed. He knew that it was kind of sad that those things weren’t mutually exclusive, but that was where he was in his life right now and he accepted it.

“Well, who is he?”

“No one you know,” Alec said in a rush, heart thudding. He could hardly tell Izzy that he was possibly dating the man that his company was trying to destroy. Or well, he could, but it seemed like a pretty bad idea and he was full up of poor choices for the week. He decided to change the subject. “What’s going on with you? You're free two Fridays in a row?”

Distracted, Izzy launched into a story about her not-super-serious boyfriend was spending all his time with his best friend, Clary.

“I’m not a jealous person,” Izzy continued, “but they have this bond that I can’t compete with.” Her voice dropped down low. “Hey, Alec, do you think they’re soulmates?”

Now did not seem like the time to tell Izzy that he had found his own soulmate.

“I don't know,” Alec said, uncertain what to do in the face of his sister’s insecurity. It so rarely happened. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” Izzy said. “You know the stories – it’s biology, it’s fate, whatever. No matter what you might feel about someone, there’s no competing with that.”

Something cold curled up in the pit of Alec’s belly. Biology, destiny. He thought of his parents, who had matching soulmarks and could barely stand to be in the same room with each other.

“I think you should probably be talking to Simon about this,” Alec choked out.

“Are you okay?” Over the phone, Izzy’s voice had gone tight and worried.

“Yeah, but I have to go,” Alec managed.

“Alec--”

“I’m fine,” Alec cut in quickly before hanging up the phone. He stared down at his hands, which were shaking.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever lied to Iz, but it was the first time he could remember telling such a big lie. He wasn’t fine. He was _terrified_.


	4. Chapter 4

Alec woke up feeling muzzy, out of sorts. It was five minutes before his alarm is set to go off, and he tosses his sheet back, swings his legs over the side. The sun isn’t up yet, but he sleeps with the windows open, and the cool breeze rustles his curtains. They look like nothing so much as ghosts, the long sweep of them moving, skimming the floor restlessly. Maybe they’re the ghosts of all the paths he’s not taken.

Last night really happened, Alec thought, rubbing a hand across his face. He had gone out with his soulmate, the person whom biology stated was his perfect match, though no one could really say why. And it _was_ a perfect night and that was the problem.

Alec got out of bed, the floorboards cold beneath his bare feet. In the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror, eyes inevitably drawn to the stark black handprint on his chest. His fingers traced the already-familiar edges.

There was nothing to be done about it; he had to get to work on destroying his soulmate’s company. He shook his head. He wasn't even sure how he felt about having a soulmate, let alone his role in disassembling Magnus’ company. The company that _helped_ people. Alec didn’t see how he can win here.

He was used to that, though. With a sigh, he dropped his hand, slipped out of his pajamas, and stepped into the shower.

Afterward, he picked out a dark blue suit, silver cufflinks, tie clip, thinking of Magnus and his gold rings glinting in the light, shining on the roof of the building. 

\---

As Alec was leaving his apartment, his phone rang. He grabbed his phone from his breast pocket, barely managing to juggle his briefcase and coffee without having a disastrous spill. “Iz,” he answered breathlessly. 

“Simon canceled plans with me tonight,” Izzy said by way of greeting, sounding both irritated and irritating awake. “This is the second time this week. I _know_ he’s spending time with Clary instead. Why wouldn’t he just tell me?”

“Probably because he knows you’re going to be furious at him?” Alec hazarded.

You’re supposed to bee on my side, Izzy huffed. “Even when I’m wrong. No-- especially when I’m wrong because no one else in this family is going o back me up.”

“You’re right,” Alec said, arriving at the elevator. Doing a complicated maneuver, he managed to punch the down button with his elbow. “We hate him. He’s trash. All men are trash. How’s that?”

Izzy laughed. “Perfect, now be honest – what do I do?”

“Talk to him,” Alec said. The elevator dinged and a second later, the doors slid open. Alec stepped in and leaned against the back wall. The irony of him offering advice on how to be honest in romantic relationships did not escape him. “You’re not going to keep him by giving him an ultimatum between you and his best friend.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you’re calm and reasonable,” Izzy replied before hanging up.

\---

At work, in the pretentious marble lobby, Underhill waved at him on his way in and Alec waved awkwardly back. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Underhill – on the surface, they seemed like they would be natural friends but Alec couldn't seem to work up any more excitement during conversations with him than he would feel about a shockingly mediocre bagel.

Through the corner of his eye, he spied Underhill making a beeline for him and Alec quickly stepped into the elevator to avoid him. He had enough feelings to sort through without adding another person to the mix.

Alec spent the morning in his office sorting through his mail and drawing up a plan of attack for the week. His eye caught on a report that Bane Ltd had a shareholders meeting on Wednesday to discuss a massive pending contract with a local hospital system. It was an interesting morsel of information that he filed away for later. It would need more digging to find out who exactly was offering that contract. A small sliver of guilt tried to worm its way up, but he impatiently shoved it back down. Magnus himself drew the line between their professional and personal lives. Alec was just doing his job.

He worked straight through the morning, then took a half an hour break to read some more of the reports submitted by his department. 

By early afternoon, he had a tension headache starting behind his left eye and he realized he hadn’t eaten except for the single cup of coffee on his way to work. 

Alec pushed his chair back from the desk, stretching out his back, the dull ache in his hunched shoulders. His neck popped alarmingly, and Alec grinned wryly at the empty room. He wasn’t as young as he used to be -- thirty seemed to be hitting him like a freight train. 

He was trying to decide if he hated himself enough to eat from the hotdog cart outside or if he wanted to brave the midday rush at a local cafe when his mother’s assistant called him and let him know Maryse wanted an update, and he was expected to be in her office in fifteen. Alec wasn’t as bothered as he probably should have been – everyone moved on Maryse’s timetable, and he was used to it. 

He took the elevator to her office on the top floor, holding the manilla folder with the information he got earlier. He could forward it in an email but even though their system is encrypted, he found that the more complicated things were, the more vulnerable they seemed to become. 

"Good afternoon,” Alec murmured, taking a seat across from her where she was sitting at her desk, shuffling papers. She was wearing dark maroon gloves to match her pantsuit and they gleamed dully in the afternoon light filtering in through the wall of windows that stretched across the entire right side of her office. 

“What have you got for me?” she asked, not looking up. 

He went through the list of current prospective acquisitions by rote memory, then when he got to the end, he hesitated. “And Bane Ltd--”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t ruin our plans with your-- little _scene_ last week.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Alec said, trying to keep his voice even. “As a matter of fact, it seems like Bane was so confident because he has a big pending contract with a local hospital system. The influx of cash will price us out when they go public in a few months.”

That finally caught her attention. “And what are we going to do about it?”

Oh, now it was _we_. 

The thing was, Alec knew someone on just about every major board, and he thought he could pay them to lose the paperwork for a couple of months. He doesn’t have to kill the contract; he just needed Magnus to feel the squeeze, to know what they were capable of. And he had to figure out who was offering the pending contract. 

“I’ll take care of it," Alec told her. Last week, before all of his bizarre behavior, his word would have been good enough for her. He had an odd relationship with his mother, one that no one particularly understood well, least of all himself, but she had always trusted him. They at least had that.

The seconds stretched out. The clock on the wall behind her ticked in the uncomfortable silence as she sized him up. The clock was a gift from her grandparents when she graduated from university. It was a bizarre gift to give a new grad, and Alec had once told her so when he was young and stupid and mostly honest. In one of her more generous moods at the time, she had explained to him that it had been a reminder to her to always put family first. That was why she kept it in her office now – a daily reminder in the place she spent the most time. 

And now, it served the same purpose for Alec. He gazed up at it, his shoulders still aching.

Maryse cleared her throat, pinned him in place with her hawkish gaze. She finally said, “See that you do.”

He knew a dismissal when he heard one and he stood, muttered a perfunctory goodbye, and made his way towards the door. His stomach gave a displeased rumble.

“Alec,” Maryse called out and Alec turned towards her. “Go see your brother before you leave for lunch.”

He nodded and closed the door behind him. Alec swung by his office to drop off his files before heading down to the fifth floor. 

As the elevator doors closed, he caught sight of himself in the mirrored interior. This is where he'd met Magnus, where they'd first made their connection,

How had Magnus been part of his life for a couple of days and already he felt like he was intrinsically tied to so many aspects of Alec’s life that Alec wasn't quite sure he could ever step into an elevator without popping a boner again.

He headed towards Jace’s office, tucked in the back on the third floor. Insanely, Jace was the head of Human Resources, a job he was about as suited for as being a Mary Poppins impersonator.

When he found him, Jace was eating a pudding cup and playing World of Warcraft. His legs were crossed at the knees, heels resting on the edge of his mahogany desk. Nothing in his office particularly looked like Jace except for Jace himself. “Die, motherfuckers!”

“We need to talk,” Alec said, closing the door behind him and flinging himself into the overstuffed chair across from Jace’s desk. Unlike his office, Jace's office was designed for comfort, for people to feel like they could come to Jace with trouble. It was a lie; Jace worked to protect the company, not the employees.

Alec shivered, remembering the first time he'd learned that fact. “I might have a conflict of interest.”

Jace kicked his legs off the desk, put down his pudding cup, and took off his gaming headphones. “Should I be taking notes? Is this on the record or off the record?”

Alec silently shook his head. “I’m coming to talk to my brother.”

Just then, Jace’s phone rang, and Jace held up a finger and answered. Alec sank back in his chair and listened to Jace talk, tried to push down his mounting horror as he heard Jace advise someone who shared a cubicle with another person who apparently believed in monthly bathing to get one of those little jelly air fresheners.

“You’re terrible at this,” Alec told him, tone mild, when Jace hung up.

Jace cracked his knuckles obnoxiously and flashed him a cocky grin. “Listen, that guy complains about someone different every single week. I figure if I continue to be extremely unhelpful, he’ll get fed up and quit. See? no problem. So, am I terrible at my job? Or am I _awesome_?”

“Terrible,” Alec said, rubbing the sharp ache throbbing in between his eyes as he imagined sifting through all the pending lawsuits.

“Then we should probably get out of here.” Jace looked up significantly towards the ceiling and then leaned forward. “I'm pretty sure mom keeps cameras in here to keep an eye on me.”

“Probably,” Alec agreed. He was pretty sure Maryse spied on him too. “We could go get something to eat.”

Jace’s mouth twisted into what started out life as a grin but ended up a kind of pained grimace. “You know I’m just here because she doesn’t know what else to do with me.”

“That’s not true,” Alec objected, knowing that it is at least a little true. Jace just _had_ to get a degree in philosophy.

“It is.” Jace stood up and grabbed his jacket. If a shrug could look hurt, then Jace’s did. “It’s no big deal.”

Jace's scuffed leather jacket was incredibly inappropriate professional wear, but it seemed kinder to keep it to himself. 

Alec could comfort Jace, but Jace would just mistake it for pity; he supposed that those that went their formative years without comfort never would learn what it looked like.

Alec squeezed his shoulder instead. “Then let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jace picked a small cafe a couple of blocks down from their office. It was a nice day, so Alec didn’t mind the walk, though, in his leather jacket, Jace had to be suffering. 

"It's what you get for being vain," Alec said, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"I don't need fashion advice from you, Men's Warehouse."

"They have nice affordable suits," Alec replied mulishly, knowing he was being a little ridiculous.

They picked a seat in a small outdoor alcove fenced off from the sidewalk with miniature picket fencing. Alec wasn’t sure how he felt about themed cafes but Jace swore by the sandwiches and Alec could put up with a lot of pretentious hipster bullshit for good food.

Alec waited until the waitress left with their orders before telling Jace, “I have something to talk to you about.” He was aware that he was being entirely too intense than the situation warranted.

Jace bit his lip. “You heard about my love affair with a crossdresser named Peaches.”

“What?” Alec said.

“What?” Jace echoed.

Alec shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Jace replied quickly. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Don’t think we’re done discussing that” Alec said warily. “But I wanted to tell you that I’ve met my soulmate.”

Jace’s face broke out into a large grin. “Hey, congrats, man.”

One thing that Alec appreciated about Jace was that his first instinct was always to be happy for people. Alec was more selfish; he almost always thought about how it would affect him or the company first, then he would offer congratulations. Maryse took it as evidence that Jace was foolhardy, didn’t think things through, which made him unsuitable for an executive position.

Alec privately thought it meant that Jace was kind.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Alec fiddled with his straw. It was one of those obnoxious paper ones that got soggy about fifteen minutes into your meal. Alec sighed and set it aside. “I haven’t told him yet,” he confessed.

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do about it.”

He knew Jace too well not to be able to follow his train of thought.

Choosing to be with someone other than your soulmate was practically unheard of – it flew in the face of biology, science. What if everyone just went around doing what felt good all the time, Alec reasoned. Chaos. Maybe good feelings and general happiness but still, _chaos_.

“ _Alec_ \--” Jace said.

“It’s complicated,” Alec hedged. He trusted Jace implicitly, but it would put him in an awkward position at the company, not that he thought Jace would care. He thrived on chaos, but Alec still didn’t want him to have to testify at their mother’s trial for murdering Alec when she found out who his soulmate was.

“When I figure out what I want to do, you’ll be the first to know.”

Jace leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “You know, Clary’s mom married someone other than her soulmate and he turned out to be crazy.”

“Clary? Simon’s Clary?”

“Yeah, I mean She was a friend of Izzy’s and she needed a job.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call her a friend,” Alec muttered.

Jace waved a careless hand. “They’ll work things out.” Alec wished he had Jace’s confidence. “Besides, we were talking about soulmates.”

“You think I’m going to marry someone crazy?”

“Nah, I think you're going to be a good boy and do as you’re expected – marry your soulmate, get a house in the suburbs, adopt 2 kids.”

“You have such a high opinion of me.”

“That’s not true,” Jace protested. He counted off on his fingers, “You’re helpful, dependable, regular.”

“You make me sound like a fiber supplement,” Alec said dryly.

Jace pointed an accusing finger at Alec. “Bowel health is no laughing matter.”

Just then, the waitress dropped off their sandwiches, and Alec shot her an awkward half-grin. He was sure she had heard worse in the course of her work, but he was still unhappy to have contributed to the general creep factor of her job. He would have to leave an embarrassingly large tip.

Alec started disassembling his sandwich to eat each layer separately, ignoring Jace’s muttered: “Now that’s just _wrong_.”

He took a bite of the bread – toasted, chewy on the inside. Jace had made a good choice. “How did you hear about Clary’s parents?” Alec asked curiously.

“We eat lunch together sometimes,” Jace muttered, staring determinedly down at his sandwich and chips. It was a sure sign that he was up to no good; then again, so were t most of the things that Jace did.

“Sounds like you have a conflict of interest of your own.”

“We’ll see.” Jace looked up at him then, flashed him a lopsided smile. It looked tired. “I guess we’ll both see, huh?”

Despite the heat of the day, Alec shivered. It was an unpleasant reminder that there wasn’t always an answer to be found. Sometimes, all you could do was wait.

\---

Alec managed to get through the rest of the day without incident, though it would be a lie to say that Magnus didn’t feature heavily in his thoughts. No matter what he was doing, his unhelpful brain seemed able to loop it back to Magnus. Property reports? Magnus owned property. Sector networks? Planned implementation activities on a mostly finished acquisition? Well, Alec wasn’t sure how those related to Magnus but he still couldn't stop thinking about him.

He found himself touching his chest more often than not and forced his hand down, pressing it flat against his desk. “This is intolerable,” Alec muttered to himself.

He was more grateful than usual when he looked up over the cubicles lined up in a depressing grid outside his office and saw most of them dark, only a few workaholics still at it.

Alec leaned back, his chair creaking. Outside, the sun was already starting to set. He checked his watch and he had just enough time to get home before Izzy brought all the food and ate it.

He grabbed his suit jacket and tugged it on quickly, calculating the fastest route home. Izzy would get all the pakoras again over his dead body.

\----

When he arrived at his apartment, Izzy was already eating while flipping through channels on the tv. “Hey, you almost missed the food.”

Alec cursed loudly and ran across the room in order to grab the styrofoam tray of leftovers.

“You kiss your momma with that mouth?” Izzy asked, then they both laugh. Nobody kisses Maryse if they can help it. It would be like licking a metal pole in the dead of winter: a horrible idea and terrifying besides.

Alec sank down next to her on the couch, where she was sitting in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, feet tucked beneath her. “How’re things?”

“Since this morning?”

“You mean, did I talk to my boyfriend rather than drive myself crazy with unfounded speculation?”

Alec paused shoveling tandoori chicken in his mouth. “Yeah, that.”

“We talked.”

“And?”

Izzy grinned sunnily at him. “I’ve got a date with Clary this Friday.”

Alec felt his eyebrows try to climb into his hair. “Something you need to tell me, Iz?”

Izzy shook her head, still smiling faintly. “It’s not like that. She’s a big part of Simon’s life and if I want to be part of his life too, then I need to accept his _whole_ life. Like, if you love someone, you can't pull apart their lives and only accept part of who they are – that’s not really love. That’s conditional love and love with conditions isn’t any kind of love at all.”

She was right. What was Alec doing for his soulmate but setting conditions? If given the chance, Magnus might not have been who he’d have chosen. He was glamorous, ambitious, accomplished. He was everything that Alec didn’t know how to ask for, the answer to a question that Alec hadn't even known to ask. But now that he was here, and they shared this inexorable connection, then who the hell was he to argue against destiny?

“Do you think I should go blonde?”

Alec set his food down and scraped a hand through his hair, which had only ever been the color he was born with. “Do you think this is something I would have an opinion on?”

Izzy rolled her eyes and started flipping through TV shows again. “Such a dude. You can tell me what you think.”

“I think,” Alec said, “there’s no way I can answer this correctly.”

Izzy settled on a cooking show. “How do we feel about British people baking?”

“Generally positive to neutral, but I do like a good cupcake.” He loosened his tie, slipped it over his head and tossed it over the couch’s arm. “Iz, do you ever think about what would be best for you or best for the family?”

“I think,” Izzy said, brow furrowed, choosing her words carefully, “that it doesn’t matter what I would do because we’re two different people”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She brushed her shoulder against his. On the television, a woman is tasting a bundt cake and complaining that it was _rather dense_. Alec was intimately familiar with the feeling. “But I hope you know you can talk to me.”

He almost told her, he really did. But the idea of telling his sister before his actual soulmate seemed like a bad idea. He needed to talk this over with Magnus.

“I know,” he said.

After she left, Alec cleaned up the empty food containers, changed out of his suit and into some worn sweatpants, all the while thinking about what he would say to Magnus. “Congrats, you’ve been selected as my soulmate!”

No, no, that sounded like he’d been selected as a contestant on the Price is Right. Frighteningly, it seemed like his best option to go with was honesty. Alec got up and took a shower instead.

Finally, he had nothing left to do: his apartment was clean and so was he. Alec sat on his couch, staring down at his phone. Before he could lose his nerve and decide to repaint his walls, he found himself calling Magnus.

Magnus answered immediately, his voice – low, smooth – made Alec’s stomach clench pleasantly. He’d already managed to forget the effect Magnus had on him.

“What a pleasure to hear from you.” There was a faint sound of whirring over the line, a strange echo. Magnus must have been in his kitchen. “I was just thinking about you."

Alec flushed hotly. Magnus was direct in a way that Alec didn’t encounter very often – so much of his job was subterfuge, greasing the right palms, making friends with the exact wrong people that it had re-written his basic nature; Alec wasn’t meant to live his life in the shadows. He was honest by default. It was his life that had convinced him that was a bad thing,

“I had a good time the other night.”

“Oh?” Magnus sounded pleased.

“I was wondering if you might like to do it again?”

“I suppose I could be convinced,” Magnus said playfully. “Where would you like to eat next?”

“My place,” Alec blurted out, and then immediately slapped a hand against his face, horrified at himself.

There was a moment of silence and then Magus said, “Not that it wouldn't be my pleasure, to be sure, but I thought you wanted to take things a bit slower--”

“Not for _that_ ,” Alec hastily interrupted. “For food. To eat. I can cook.” In case Magnus didn’t get it, he added helpfully, “ _Not_ sex.”

To his great relief, Magnus chuckled. “What a relief," he said, still sounding amused. “Glad to get that cleared up.”

“I want to talk,” Alec said. “Get to know you better.” _Inform you that we’re soulmates and society dictates that we spend the rest of our lives together in wedded bliss,_ he added silently. That was probably a revelation best left until after the appetizers, though.

Magnus sounded touched when he said, “I would like that very much.”

“Next Saturday?”

“Perfect. Can I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Alec told him. “I'll text you my address. See you then.”

And then Alec was staring down at his phone again, heartbeat fluttering wildly in his chest. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he couldn’t even guess. What's more, he didn’t want to try. All he knew was that everything in him wanted to get to know Magnus, to see where this might go.

Like Jace said -- sometimes, all you could do was hope and wait.

Though in the meantime, Alec found, it was always best to plan for disaster.


	6. Chapter 6

He called Izzy while he was silently panicking about what he was going to cook Magnus and wondering if he could order in and possibly pass it off as his own.

He opened his laptop and dialed Izzy’s number.

"You called right on time."

"What?" Oh, it was Izzy's date with Clary. “Uh, how was your date?”

“Good,” Izzy said, and she sounded it. “Clary's an art student and she showed me some of her work and how to do this kickass fishtail braid.”

“I don’t know what that means," Alec said plaintively. 

“It’s a – oh, never mind,” Izzy said. “We had a good time, is all. I think we could be good friends.”

Alec propped his phone between his chin and shoulder, typing, “how to cook okay” into the search bar. “So, no more jealousy?”

A bunch of websites clearly run by sad bachelors immediately popped up. Alec quickly skimmed them, feeling his hopes drop somewhere in the vicinity of his orthopedic loafers. These were mostly meals cooked in the microwave in coffee cups. 

“I don’t know,” Izzy answered honestly. “I’m not exactly proud of myself, here. It’s not like the feeling’s _voluntary._ Like I wake up in the morning and ask myself what would be super pathetic and I should totally go with that.”

“Yeah,” Alec said. “ He got how sometimes you feel something against your will, against all better judgment. As a matter of fact, he was currently trying to figure out how to cook for his newest disaster. Alec licked his lips. “What would you say if I told you I had a date tomorrow?”

“I would ask if I need to give give you the sex talk.”

“I am horrified by the thought of that on every level,” Alec said. “I’m glad everything worked out for you.”

“So am I.” We’re still—talking and working on stuff, but it’s good to understand their bond. Whether I can live my life playing second string to that bond remains to be seen.”

Izzy wasn't wrong to feel the way that she did. One of the hardest lessons Alec had to learn as he grew up was that there were some situations where no one was wrong and no one was right – people just were, and they tried to do the best for themselves and for others.

Life was complicated; it swung forward and backward, up and down. Every way but in the way you usually planned. 

“Sometimes all you can do is wait,” Alec murmured. 

“That’s what Jace always says,” Izzy said sharply. “You know he read that stupid shit off a fortune cookie, right?”

"I did not,” Alec allowed.

“Don’t listen to Jace’s shit," Izzy said firmly. " _Do_ something.”

\---

Alec eventually decided on meatloaf. It was just a big pile of meat in a pan, how hard could it be?

He printed out the sheets with the recipe, set all his ingredients out, and got started. About midway through, he knocked over the cup of oil and could only watch in horror as the oil saturated the recipe and everything else on his counter, fanning out in a viscous puddle and then dribbling slowly onto the floor. 

Well. No matter, Alec told his screaming subconscious. He could probably remember all the ingredients anyway. 

Two hours later, Alec dejectedly started a video call with Jace, silently praying that he would pick up.

‘What’s up, brosef?” Jace said cheerfully, just to watch Alec’s eye twitch with annoyance. "Missing me already?"

“I've seen something terrible,” Alec said in a terrified rush.

Jace visibly winced. “Look,” he said, sounding tired, “I told you when we were kids to stay off those free porn sites. They all have viruses and the worst porn on the internet. Think about it: they have to literally give it away for free.”

Alec was panicked and sweaty and in no particular mood for Jace’s bullshit. “It’s a different kind of meat,” Alec answered shortly and held up the pan of meatloaf so that Jace could see it on the screen. It jiggled threateningly in the monitor. 

"Alec," Jace said uneasily, "what am I looking at?" He squinted and leaned closer to the monitor. "Is that -- is that meat?" 

“Maybe I added too many eggs.”

“Why did you add any eggs at all?” Jace asked.

"I don't know!" Alec yelled.

Jace held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, do yourself a favor – take a few deep breaths, get showered, and call for some food."

“What should I do with the meatloaf?”

“Burn it?” Jace suggested, shrugging.

“I think I did that too,” Alec reluctantly admitted.

\---

In the end, Alec decided he should be a little more freewheeling. After all, he was turning over a new leaf, trying new things, right? He hurriedly looked through his pantry, boiled some pasta, and added a jarred sauce. It looked – to be incredibly generous – dreadful. All pasty and white and damp, not unlike Alec himself. Fighting creeping despair, he desperately chopped up the failed meatloaf, picking out the most offensively wiggly bits.

By the time he finished, he had just enough time to wipe off the sweatiest parts of his body and change clothes. He could spend some time picking out something flattering or he could wipe the cold nervous sweat off his ass. He picked general hygiene over stylishness and grabbed a black shirt and black dress slacks.

He was just finishing buttoning the last one on his plain black oxford when the doorbell rang. Alec glanced down at his watch – Magnus was right on time. How strange; Alec had gotten used to operating on Izzy and Jace hours, which generally mean thirty minutes to an hour later than agreed on.

Alec ran nervous hands through his hair. “Be cool,” he muttered to himself as he unlocked the front door. Magnus was standing in the hallway, looking fantastic. His hair was carefully coiffed, and he was wearing some silky looking shirt with complicated gold scrolling across the front; his fingernails, painted a solid shimmery black, were curled around a bottle of wine. He looked like something from Alec’s dreams.

“I didn't know what you were serving,” Magnus said, “ so I didn’t know whether to bring a red or white.”

“I fucked up dinner,” Alec blurted out, “so I’m not sure it matters.”

Alec closed his eyes in despair; sometimes his body was _horrifying –_ always just going around, saying whatever he was thinking,

Magnus laughed easily. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all of that."

“See for yourself,” Alec said, letting Magnus in.

Magnus looked around curiously, unashamed of his frank curiosity, fingers lightly running over the spines of all the books Alec had bought with every intention of reading but never got around too. He paused at an ugly brown lump sitting in front of the books and turned towards Alec, eyebrows raised curiously.

“A gift,” Alec explained. “My sister, Izzy, made it for me when she was eight.” It was a sad thing; lumpy and misshapen. It was supposedly a teddy bear, but it more resembled an elephant turd. Still, there was love in every childish curve, and Alec loved it. 

“You’re a sweet man,” Magnus said, his mouth curled into a gentle smile.

“I-- not really.” Alec rubbed the back of his neck; being sweet was an accusation leveled at him about as often as being wild and spontaneous was, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

“Shall I see your culinary masterpiece?”

Alec flushed. This was not how he imagined this night going with his soulmate: sweaty, terrible food. He reluctantly led him into the kitchen, Magnus following close behind. He leans over Alec’s shoulder and peers into the pot.

“Is that—hamburger helper?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“Why is it 95% meat?” Magnus asked, sounding mystified.

Although Alec had made it, that fact also perplexed him. It hadn’t seemed like quite so much meat a half an hour ago. “I’m not really sure what happened,” Alec answered honestly. 

Magnus grinned up at him. ”I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

“Uh-huh,” Alec agreed doubtfully. Self-delusion was a powerful drug, Alec reminded himself.

He pulled out the plates, two wine glasses, and the silverware. “Can you help me set the table?”

“My pleasure,” Magnus answered, leaving alec alone in the kitchen with the wine and his dreadful food. He sighed and transferred his abomination to a nicer dish, then uncorked the wine, a nice crisp white. Not too cheap, not too expensive. Like Magnus, it was infuriatingly perfect.

Alec took the dish to the table, then the wine, which Magnus poured into the glasses. In the center of the table, Alec placed two large taper candles in the center and lit them. Should he turn off the lights? Maybe. It would be more romantic and he supposed the moment they confirmed themselves as soulmates should be super gross and romantic. At least that’s what tv led him to believe. 

He flicked off the lights and settled down at the table across from Magnus. 

“Looks delicious,” Magnus said, which was a lie, but Alec appreciated the effort.

He knew it was a lie because Alec could barely see his own plate six inches from his face. He reached towards the dish of food, missed entirely, and ended up jamming two fingers into the jiggly mess. “ _shit._ ”

Magnus made a strange noise. Alec couldn’t see his expression, but he assumed this was a noise of horror that his soulmate was such a rube.

“We should order in,” Alec said, utterly defeated. His hand was still buried knuckle-deep in food.

Magnus covered his mouth. It took a full minute for Alec to realize that Magnus was laughing. And it was absurd. Alec had planned the night so carefully, and it had all gone to shit – he could barely see Magnus, he had his hand in the food that was barely edible anyway, and the careful presentation that Alec had devised was utterly shattered. Maybe it was for the best; was love real if based on carefully orchestrated artifice?

Alec took his hand back, laughing at the absurdity of the situation, which just made Magnus laugh harder, and then they were both doubled-over, laughing until tears streamed down their faces. 

“Your _face_ \--” Magnus wheezed, slapping the table.

“No,” Alec managed, “your face-- _why is there so much meat_?” Which sends them into another round of hysterical laughter. 

Alec’s face hurt, his stomach muscles ached. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed that hard. He wiped his eyes and asked, “Okay, okay, what should we order?” 

He expected Magnus to be agreeable, to demur to whatever Alec felt like, but Magnus said immediately, “Chinese.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,’ Magnus said, shoulders loose and easy, hands relaxed against the table. “I have a horrible fondness for greasy Chinese food.”

“Done,” Alec said and got up to wash his hands, clear the food. He turned on the light and turned, surprised to see Magnus right behind him. 

“There you are,” Magnus said softly.

“Hey,” Alec said, the nervous flutter that had become a constant companion since meeting Magnus, remarkable for its sudden absence. In place, something calm and peaceful had settled. The thought of spending the rest of his life suddenly didn’t seem so terribly daunting. They weren’t like his parents, and he couldn’t see any of his father in the faint laugh lines around his eyes or the disappointment of his mother in Magnus’ warm dark eyes.

Alec let out a deep breath. “I have something to show you,” he said. Before he can second-guess himself, he reached for the front of his shirt and quickly began unbuttoning it. 

“Darling,” Magnus said hesitantly, “not that I’m complaining but I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“Just wait,” Alec muttered, fighting the last button with shaking hands. Finally, he was done. He hooked his fingers on his shirt and slowly slid it off his shoulders. He could imagine what Magnus was seeing: his pale skin, the startling black handprint etched against his chest. 

“Oh my darling,” Magnus said, voice barely more than a whisper. It didn’t sound happy at all; in fact, it sounded unutterably sad. “Why didn’t you say something.

Alec licked his lips. This wasn’t going right at all and he felt a sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach. “I wanted to see – I wanted to make sure we were compatible beyond-- _this_.”

Magnus raised a hand as if to touch the mark, but stopped short, his hand hovering in midair. “But what would your soulmate say?”

It didn’t make any sense. What the _fuck_ was Magnus talking about? And then his eyes dropped to Magnus' hand and he immediately felt so, so stupid. Unutterably, inexcusably stupid. He blinked his eyes, which were suddenly burning. 

Because the evidence, Alec realized, was right in front of him all along as he stared at Magnus’ totally clear palm. If they were soulmates, where was Magnus' mark on his hand?

Magnus wasn't his soulmate now and never was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the exchange alec has with jace comes from a priceline commercial or something i vaguely remember.

Later, Alec wouldn’t be able to clearly say what had happened. He vaguely remembered Magus sitting with him on the couch, wrapping a warm blanket around his shoulders, followed a while later by Magnus pressing a mug of hot tea into his hands. The heat seeped into his skin; he felt a little like time had stopped for him at the moment he realized that Magnus wasn’t his soulmate. Something tender and tentative that had warmed to the idea of being attached to Magnus in some way for the rest of their lives had frozen in between heartbeats, a rare moment in life that was as clear as a line of delineation in the sand: there was the before, and here was the after.

He remembered Magnus’ soft voice telling him in hushed tones, “I had a soulmate mark a long time ago.”

Alec got it. Some truths were too painful to be said loudly. He noticed that Magnus used the past tense and felt a little sick. "What happened?”  
  
“We were kids,” Magnus explained. “We were in the same class in school. I hated her, but I thought all girls were gross then. I pushed her down when she tried to kiss me. I was so embarrassed to have a soulmate.”  
  
“That's terrible,” Alec said, his mouth twitching. He could see it now: baby Magnus, chubby-cheeked with a shock of dark hair, disgustedly wiping a girl’s kiss off his cheek.

“It was,” Magnus agreed, “but then, we’re all a little terrible when we’re kids.”

“Yeah,” Alec said, thinking about all the shitty things he had done to Izzy, usually at Jace’s behest.

“She wasn't so bad.” Magnus shifted on the couch, some deep, unknowable grief passing over his features. “Eventually, we became friends. She was in a car accident when we were in high school. I think, if she had lived, I would have fallen in love with her.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “I guess now we’ll never know, huh?”

And Alec suddenly understood, that alongside the grief for a young girl, a friend, and a soulmate, Magnus was also mourning the loss of a particular vision he had for his life, the easy map it might have followed. “Oh, god, Magnus,” Alec said, “I’m so _sorry_.”

Magnus made a soft sound and tapped his finger to Alec’s mug. “Drink your tea.”

Alec took a sip, felt the odd soothing warmth of it. Outside, the sun had gone down, the city lights flickering to life like lightning bugs rising from the earth after a hard rain.

“I’ve made my peace with it,” Magnus said. He undid the sleeve of his shirt, slipping delicate mother of pearl buttons rimmed in gold through equally tiny holes, then rolled up the sleeve to show Alec a scar, raised and gray and faded. “This is what I have left of her.” He looked down at it, hands curled into loose fists in his lap. “In a kind of sick way, I’m glad it left a mark, though. I think losing something that important should leave a mark.”

“Yeah,” Alec said.  
  
Magnus nodded towards Alec's chest, where they both knew the stark black mark was branded on his chest. “You should do your best to find out who really left that on you.”

“I don’t care,” Alec said stubbornly. “I like you. And this is better in a way because at least I know it’s real.”

Magnus smiled sadly. “Having a soulmate is a beautiful thing and that’s not something I'd want you to miss out on because of me. Even though I lost her, I was still thankful I got to spend as many years with my soulmate as I did. Perhaps that’s why we were destined to be together in the first place.” He held up a hand to preemptively cut off Alec's inevitable protests. “I’m not saying no to us, but I am saying to take some time to think about it.”  
  
Alec didn’t have a response for that.

The last thing he remembered was Magnus pulling a blanket over him and kissing his forehead softly. It was the first time they’d knowingly touched, Alec had thought bitterly, and he had nothing to show for it. Not even a mark.  
  
  


\---

  
  
He called into work the next morning, for the first time in about – forever. Maryse seemed genuinely concerned when he told her that he wasn’t feeling well enough to go into the office. “Are you running a fever?”

“I’m feeling a little warm,” Alec lied terribly. He had a good poker face with everyone except his mother. “I think a day of rest will make me feel better.”

He certainly hoped it was true; he didn’t think anything could make him feel more wretched than he did right now. He rolled over on the couch, staring at the open window. He’d forgotten to close the curtains last night and it was raining, fat raindrops hitting the glass at a sharp slant and pouring down in thick rivulets. The city looked washed out, pale. Alec closed his eyes, wishing it away, but when he opened them, the window still looked like one of the lonely impressionist landscape knockoffs that they sold on streetcorners. Alec continued listening to his mother’s instructions half-heartedly, making occasional sounds of agreement when he thought it was appropriate.

Once he hung up with his mother, he stood up, the blanket hitting the floor in a careless pile. He needed a plan. Alec was by nature a researcher, a planner, a list-maker type-a asshole extraordinaire. lt was rare that he found himself truly at odds. But he had no experience with this, no frame of reference. The only one he knew who had a soulmate was his mother, but he’d personally rather chew off his own right arm than admit to her he’d somehow managed to fuck up one of the most meaningful connections of his life. He paced the length of his apartment a few times.

Because it was small and he was tall, it did not take as long as he would have personally liked.

He checked his phone and only fifteen minutes had passed.

Out of sheer desperation, he called Jace.

“I have a confession to make,” he said as soon as Jace answered, sounding sleepy.

Jace tsked. “You poisoned your date with that terrible meatloaf and you want me to help you move the body. If the FBI is listening, then I don’t do that stuff. If not, then tell me where to meet you, but give me time to throw up first.”

“If I needed to move a body, I’d ask Izzy,” Alec replied, distracted by thoughts of his meatloaf and where he had possibly gone wrong. It had just been so devastatingly jiggly.

“That’s probably wise,” Jace admitted. “Hold on, some idiot wants to talk to me.”

Alec hoped Jace didn’t walk to employees like that, but you never knew with him. Jace had a habit of being brutally honest.

He heard the phone being set down on Jace’s desk and then a muffled conversation, followed by the sound of a door being closed. “I’m back,” Jace said a few minutes later. “What’s up?”

“My soulmate isn’t Magnus,” he told Jace in a rush.

“What’s a Magnus?”

“The guy that isn’t my soulmate.”

“I see,” Jace said, even though he clearly didn’t. He was undoubtedly thinking about all the random men who also weren’t Alec’s soulmate.

“This would probably be easier to show you than try to explain. Can you do a video call?”  
  
“Hold on,” Jace replied and as Alec watched, his grinning face appeared. He was in his office, the bright morning light streaming in through the window, catching his hair and turning it cornsilk gold.

Alec set the phone on the table in front of him, angled up at his body, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Someone touched me. I thought it was this one guy but it turned out it wasn’t.”

Jace leaned closer to his phone to get a better look. “Jesus. It’s right there on the tit, isn’t it?”

“Thanks,” Alec muttered as he pulled his shirt closed self-consciously. “I knew I could count on you to be a total asshole.” Why he imagined Jace could help him, he didn’t know. He was pretty sure he’d once witnessed Jace peeing in an emptied water bottle because he was in the middle of an epic World of Warcraft quest and couldn’t be fucked to get up and use the toilet.

“Quit that,” Jace said. “You know I have your back. So, what do you know about the mark?”

“I know what day it happened, but that’s about all I know,” Alec answered grudgingly.

“At work?”

Alec shrugged helplessly. “I think so? I didn’t go anywhere else that day?” When does he ever go anywhere else?

Jace’s eyes narrowed in thought. “You know, if it was at work, there are cameras everywhere.”

On that creepy note, Jace was right. “How would we get ahold of the security footage ?”

“Leave it to me, big bro. I know a guy.”

“Who?” Alec asked suspiciously. Jace had a number of dodgy contacts of which he was exceedingly proud.

Jace steepled his fingers. “A _guy_.”

Alec sighed. He had to trust Jace and his probably shady connections, he supposed, if he wanted to know who his soulmate was. And he also supposed he ought to know, even if he had a sneaking suspicion that he would never like them quite as much as Magnus. But he didn’t have a real choice in the matter. Biology hadn’t given him one.

“Give me a day to work on it and I’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow,” Jace said.  
  
“See you then," Alec agreed and hung up the phone.  
  
He sat alone on his couch, the apartment depressingly quiet.  
  
When he looked around, he saw the mug half-filled with tea that Magnus had left on the coffee table. Alec leaned forward and picked up the mug, cupping it carefully in both hands. If he concentrated very hard, he thought he could feel the last dredges of warmth seeping in his skin, hear Magnus’ low silky voice telling him that everything would be okay.

But when he took a sip, he realized it was just an illusion. The tea had gone quite cold and didn’t taste good at all.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The next morning, Alec figured he’d better get his ass to work. It wasn’t a good time to miss work, in the middle of half a dozen acquisitions, but then again, it never was.  
  
In his mother’s office, he sat in his usual chair. He was surprised when Maryse came around the desk and lifted her hand. By reflex, he flinched back, but she just cupped his cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay to work?”

Her glove was cool and soft against his face. For a moment, he wished that she wouldn’t wear the gloves. He thought he could remember a time when she maybe hadn’t, had touched his face in the same way once when he had stayed home sick from school. But memories were funny things -- warping and changing with time, always a little sweeter or darker with the passage of years. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.  
  
“I’m fine,” Alec said, “just need to catch up on the reports I’ve missed.”  
  
“Okay,” Maryse said, and she was all business again. “Catch me up later.”

“I’m sure you won’t let me forget,” Alec said and left.  
  
  
\---

  
  
On his way to his office, Alec got a message. He checked his phone and immediately saw a text from Jace: We’re going to do this shit during lunch. Meet me by the water fountains on the first floor xoxo  
  
Alec didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But he went to Jace when he was at his most desperate and incidentally, not involved in a homicide, so that had to mean something.  
  
It probably meant that he needed more friends.  
  
Once Alec got to his office, he threw himself into his chair. His desk was a frightening mound of paper and mail, an AARP catalog for the newest in discrete hearing aids on the market. Damnit, he knew buying those orthopedic shoes were a mistake.  
  
With Bane’s board meeting looming, he needed to find out who his prospective client was. He checked over his emails, reading over a few flagged as important and set up a meeting to look over the financials for their newest acquisition, a shipbuilding company. Ships were one of the few subjects which Alec knew next to nothing about except how to make money off of them. He supposed this now made him a sailor. Perhaps Magnus was his own personal Moby Dick.  
  
It didn’t matter. In the end, they all fell the same.  
  
He busied himself reading reports and tearing apart financials, carefully poring over the balance sheets and cash flow statements, and shaking his head. Some people were tragically bad with managing assets. Dismantling companies and asset stripping was familiar ground for him, comforting in its monotony.  
  
Alec wrote up a quick prospectus and forwarded it to his mother, though she would no doubt require that Alec go over in it in greater detail with her later.

He checked his watch nervously; it was almost time to meet Jace.  
  
He grabbed a cup of coffee at the cart on the ground floor and felt a little indulgent, so he added two sugars. It was definitely a two sugar day. Across the lobby, after going through the security checkpoint, a few water fountains were lining the wall in-between the bathrooms, tastefully surrounded by ficus trees in big brass pots.

While waiting by the fountains, he touched one of the leaves of the trees he’d always assumed were real. “Motherfuck,” Alec whispered, rubbing the silk leaves between his fingers. Was everything in this goddamn office pure artifice?

He nearly choked on his next sip of coffee when he heard two sharp raps from inside the men’s restroom and a voice stage-whispers, “The eagles fly at dawn.”

“Jace, get out here,” Alec said, in no particular mood for this brand of bullshit. Inside, he heard two more knuckle raps, angrier this time, if knocks against tile could be said to have a mood. “Christ,” he said in an explosive whisper that security probably heard from across the lobby. “Okay, okay. The monkey eats custard.”

The men’s restroom door swung open and Jace stepped out, grinning widely. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Yes,” Alec grumbled. Hard as in difficult to form the words? No. Hard as in utterly humiliating? Yes.

But Jace didn’t ask for clarification. Just then the door swung open again and a man hurried out, shooting Alec and Jace a curious look as he passed.  
  
Alec closed his eyes, face tipped towards the ceiling. If he believed in a higher power, he’d be asking them to give him patience right now. “There was someone in there the whole time?”

“Oops,” Jace said, entirely unrepentant. “He wasn’t at the urinals. Bet he was pooping.”

Alec refused to dignify Jace’s speculation about other employee's bowel habits with a response.

“Who’s this guy you know?” Alec asked instead, “And why did we have to meet by the bathrooms instead of meeting at your office?”

In response, Jace grabbed the sleeve of Alec’s jacket ad tugged him sharply right towards a door that Alec had never particularly noted. Jace knocked on the door twice, and then the door opened by a man in a light blue security uniform. Alec looked up at the guy who answered the door and kept looking up and looking up.

“See? I know a guy,” Jace said, grinning sunnily.  
  
It was rare for Alec to encounter someone taller than him, but the security guard had him beat by a good three inches. He was dressed in a crisp navy suit with a nametag that simply read, “Peaches.”  
  
Alec raised his eyebrows and leveled a look at Jace, which Jace studiously ignored. “What’d you find for me?”

When Alec glanced over, Jace was addressing the security guard, who had the kind of high-cheekbones, narrow jaw, and dark skin that made him classically, devastatingly handsome. It also, Alec thought, feeling a little dizzy, probably meant he looked lovely in drag.

Peaches jerked his head toward Alec. “This is the guy you told me about?”

“Yup,” Jace answered.

Peaches sat down at his desk, which was piled high with multiple monitors, each split into quads of simultaneously moving pictures. The constant motion made Alec feel a little seasick, and he gripped the edge of the desk to hold himself steady.

“I looked into the stored footage we have of the date you mentioned and I followed Mr. Lightwood backward through the day.”

“You know those little silver balls on the ceiling?” Jace asked Alec, who nodded along. He did not know where this was going, but he suspected nowhere good. “Well, that’s big Peaches in the sky. He knows all and sees all.”

“That sounds like a song,” Alec said, for lack of anything better. The inside of his head felt like a marching band in a hurricane. It was all jumbled confusion and mass hysteria.

“I pulled up the tapes from the last week and you rarely interact with anyone, Mr. Lightwood.”

“Alec, please,” Alec said. He didn’t need a seven-foot security guard to tell him that he spent too much of his time alone; he was well aware of that fact if not the faintest in how to remedy it.

“Mmm-hmm, Peaches said, looking doubtful. “The only time I ever see you regularly interact with people is during meetings and the elevator.”

Alec’s mind skipped right over that tragic phrase. The elevator – made sense. That was where he’d met Magnus.

“From what I can tell, two guys touched you that day.”

Alec could feel his heartbeat speed up, panic roaring in his ears. He swayed on his feet and he felt Jace touch his elbow to steady him. He licked his lips. “Who were they?”

Peaches wordlessly brought up a video clip. On the grainy screen, Alec watched himself half-stagger into the elevator, arms full of mail, and nearly collide with Underhill and then back away. It was a bit like seeing a back and white movie where you weren’t really sure who was the villain and who was the protagonist. He might as well be watching someone else’s life. So many days, Alec thought, pass without people really absorbing them. Why had he lived so much of his life that way? Right now, he was watching his own life in reverse and was dismayed but unsurprised to see confirmed that it was completely and expectedly unremarkable.

“So, the first guy is some guy named Magnus Bane – but then, second, or first – well, you know what I mean, I watched the whole damn day backward – it was an employee here, Andrew Underhill? I don’t know if you know him?”

Oh, Alec knew him. To be entirely honest with himself, he’d known the moment he saw Magnus’ clear hand outstretched towards him.

“Aw fuck-damnit,” Alec mumbled and closed his eyes. Underhill had touched his chest when Alec nearly ran into him, mere seconds before he met Magnus.

He felt Jace’s hand tighten around his arm in comfort. “That’s a really good curse word,” Jace replied helpfully.


	8. Chapter 8

Alec felt anxious, the vise of expectation tightening incrementally around him on all sides. It also might have been the six cups of coffee he had earlier. He repeatedly paced the length of his office, had a spectacularly unproductive day. He ought to talk to Underhill, but he couldn't quite make himself, and he knew that reflected poorly on him rather than Underhill. Alec sat down and tried to imagine a life without Magnus. He easily could, and that was part of the problem. His life, which if not exciting had been moderately satisfactory, seemed dull in comparison now, like a movie running in reverse and slowly being leached of color.

On his way home, Alec grabbed his jacket, his briefcase, and locked his office door behind him. From down the hall, he spied Underhill turning the corner and Alec's eyes immediately dropped to the thin black leather gloves he was wearing as he thumbed through a report as he walked. Oh, _fuck_. Alec was not ready to do this. He made a sharp pivot and dashed off in the opposite direction. Would Jace call it a little bitch move? Undoubtedly. Did it stop Alec from heaving himself down the stairs to avoid anyone who might ask him why he was leaving work on time and avoiding a perfectly pleasant coworker? Just ask his sweaty socks.

He needed to talk about this with somebody, but honestly, there was only one person he wanted to see. While dodging people on the sidewalk, he pulled out his phone and sent Magnus a text: _SOS! Need to talk asap!_

A minute later, Magnus sent back, _??_

Then, _on my way_

It was not actually that urgent, Alec thought. He could have been more clear about that, so he added, take your time, but it was probably too late after the heart-attack-inducing first text. Assuming Magnus was already dressed and would catch a cab to Alec's place, then he had about fifteen minutes to get dressed and five minutes to clean a bit and pretend like he didn’t secretly live like a college-aged grifter. 

At his apartment, Alec took a miserable three-minute shower and changed into a pair of black slacks and a blue sweater Izzy gave him a few years ago because in her words, how he usually dressed made her eyeballs sad.

By the time he heard a knock on the front door, Alec was running his fingers through his still-damp hair and looked reasonably put together.

When he let Magnus in, he was wearing a sleeveless hoodie and sweatpants, far more casual than Alec had ever seen him before. In any other circumstance, Alec would be charmed to see Magnus like this, had actually dreamed of seeing Magnus like this -- no makeup, messy, a little undone. He imagined this was what Magnus would look like first thing in the morning after rolling out of bed, something that Alec was determined to see if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Hey,” Alec said. 

“Hey yourself,” Magnus replied. He looked cautiously pleased to see Alec. “You needed to talk?”

“Yes.” Alec stepped out of the way to show Magnus in. They settled on the couch, the scene of many regrettable decisions in his past. Alec just hoped this wouldn’t be one of them. As he sat, the hem of Magnus’ sweatpants rode up, exposing part of his calf, his sockless feet tucked into trainers. My god, Alec thought, utterly dismayed, I’m incredibly turned on by ankles now. He licked his lips nervously. It was a slippery slope towards foot fetishism. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Magnus raised his eyebrows in a move that clearly conveyed his feelings on the subject. Fucking really? 

“Yeah okay,” Alec amended quickly. “I’ve been thinking like you said to last time.”

“I did mean for more than 72 hours,” Magnus pointed out gently, touching his arm.

Alec shook his head, stubborn as always. “But here’s the thing, I don’t think it would make a difference.”

Magnus' hand tightened. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying fuck this whole soulmate business-- I want you. I choose you." Part of him couldn't believe he was saying this while the larger part knew from the moment he met Magnus that it couldn't have ever gone any other way. 

“Fuck,” Magnus swore and ducked his head. His knuckles were white where they were fisted in Alec's shirt.

It wasn’t like Magnus to curse; he was too deliberately charming to use foul language and yet, Alec could sense his relief. It was the same release of tension that Alec had been holding for the past few days, for most of his life.

When Magnus looked up at him, his eyes were soft, somehow vulnerable. It matched his unstyled hair, his knuckles, bare of his usual line of rings. Alec wanted to kiss them, so he did. He lifted Magnus' hand in his and pressed a kiss to each of the naked joints. He had never thought of jewelry as armor until presented with the dizzying visage of Magnus with none. 

Magnus looked troubled as he silently watched Alec. "I have something to tell you."

Alec didn't think he could take any more bad news. "Will it end the world today?" he asked plaintively.

Magnus chuckled softly; Alec wanted to climb into the warm embrace of that sound and never come out. Magnus still looked troubled but there was a lovely dusky rose tinge to his cheeks, his neck, as Alec ran his fingertips over the back of Magnus' hand.

"No, not today," he confirmed. "I think we're all clear in that respect."

"Then it can wait until morning," Alec said decisively. Now that the decision had been made, he wanted to bask in it. "Let us just have this night."

"Alec--"

"Shh," Alec said, forehead resting against Magnus', "can't we just be happy for a minute? This is kind of a big deal."

It wasn't fair but Alec wanted his basking, damnit. 

Magnus hesitated then said, "Yes, I suppose we should be."

Alec kissed him then, made bold by his decision. What good was blowing up your entire life if you don't have a little fun in the process? Against his mouth, Magnus made a little sound that Alec felt like a jolt of lightning. He deepened the kiss, licked into Magnus' mouth to taste him. Magnus' hand stole up, cupping the back of Alec's neck, fingers curling into his hair, black-painted fingernails lightly scratching against his skin. 

This was getting intense fast, and Alec was ready for it. He pressed closer to Magnus, skimmed the tips of his fingers beneath the ribbed bottom of Magnus' soft jacket, touching the warm skin there. 

Magnus pulled back suddenly, breathing hard.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Magnus grinned wryly. "No such thing."

"Did you want to move this into the bedroom?" Alec offered. It was early days yet but Alec had slept with people he'd known less than twenty-four hours and that he liked far less than Magnus.

"Of course," Magnus replied, "but you just made a huge, life-altering decision."

"I'm ready," Alec protested. 

Magnus reached up, cupped a hand around Alec's jaw. "But I'm not."

It was the one thing Alec couldn't argue in his long history of bullheadedly getting his way through sheer persistence. "Okay," he said, backing off. "Do you want to watch tv or do you need to get home?"

"I could stick around for a while." Magnus arranged himself on the couch next to Alec. He'd kicked off his shoes and tucked his bare feet beneath him. His toes were painted black to match his fingernails; Alec felt faint. He’d never found toes particularly erotic, but he desperately wanted to touch them, wanted to touch all of Magnus. This was becoming less a slippery slope than a full-blown sprint towards absolute perviness.

Alec whipped the blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it up around Magnus’ lap, paying careful attention to cover those devilish feet. Maybe he'd buy Magnus one of those shapeless ponchos and demand he wear it on all of their dates.

“What are we watching?” Magnus asked, completely unaware of all the lurid directions Alec's mind was ping-ponging between. But then again, maybe not. He wasn't as much of a horn dog as Jace, but he was still a dude.

“Whatever your heart desires and that Netflix streams.” Alec handed the remote to Magnus. “Are you hungry? I could get something delivered.”

“Mmm, maybe just a snack,” Magnus said as he ran his bare foot up Alec’s shin.

Alec dropped his head and breathed noisily through his nose. “You’ve got to stop your flirting if you want this night to end innocently.”

“Consider me properly chastised,” Magnus said, though his eyes were glinting with mischief.

Alec gave Magnus’ shin one last regretful pat and got up to grab his stack of takeout menus from the kitchen. He flipped through them until he found something good and ordered a full spread of appetizers.

When he got back to the living room, Magnus was engrossed in scrolling through military movies.

“Did you serve?” Alec asked curiously. Magnus didn’t seem the type, and nothing had come up in the perfunctory background check he’d done earlier, but he’d been wrong before.

Magnus looked up. “Me? No. But for a while, I did live in Pyeongtaek. It has a huge military base, so I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for military movies and handsome men in uniform.”

“I didn’t think so.” Alec grinned at him. “You don’t move like ex-military.”

“However,” Magnus tipped his head, “you do.”

“Strict parents,” Alec said, sitting down. It was a heavy topic for a date, but then again, they had seemed to skip at least a dozen steps in their whole courtship ritual. It was okay, though. Alec preferred this easy intimacy that they’d seemingly effortlessly fallen into. He thought that he wouldn’t mind this, a lifetime of sitting on the couch in the evenings with Magnus’ cold feet pressed against him while they bickered about what to watch. For the first time, the vision of his life stretched before him spurred contentment instead of a vague sense of dread.

“I’ll watch whatever you want to. I’m afraid that it’s been so long since I've watched television that I’m not familiar with what’s currently on.”

Sure. Magnus probably did something elegant like wine tasting while admiring his perfectly sculpted arms. “I like Naked Soulmates,” Alec mumbled. It was the horrible show that Izzy had gotten him addicted to and he was dying to know who got eliminated tonight. He was a little ashamed to let Magnus know that he liked such trashy TV, but not overly much. If they were going to Do This Thing, then Magnus might as well know what he was going to be in for. Alec was about as far from elegant as a person could possibly be and still remain homo sapien. He was a homo homebody. There would be no wine tastings here. Alec didn't much see the point of social niceties. On more than one occasion, Jace and Izzy always accused him of treating small talk like an interrogation.

Alec honestly couldn’t help it. He disliked artifice; he just wanted to know the truth of people.

“They do the entire season naked? How guache,” Magnus said in an intrigued voice. He was grinning, eyes glued to the tv screen as a lot of naked and improbably attractive people did obstacle courses.

“Just wait,” Alec warned, “soon, you’ll be recording any episodes you missed too.”

“I’m sure." The glow from the tv flickered over Magnus’ face, the hollows of his sharp cheekbones shadowed.

Alec reached out and wrapped his hand around Magnus’ narrow ankle, thumb brushing over the bones there, circling over and over. Magnus grinned and settled in closer.

\---

After Magnus left, Alec heard a knock on the door while he was staring at a bunch of takeout boxes and trying to muster up the will to straighten up. It had been a lot more fun eating it than cleaning up after. 

Before Alec could answer, a key turned in the lock and Izzy came barrelling in.

“Let yourself in," Alec said dryly as she threw herself down on the couch beside him. He handed her a small aluminum tray of leftover bruschetta, which she took gratefully.

“Clary thinks she met her soulmate,” she said in between heaping mouthfuls of bread.

“Wow,” Alec muttered, “soulmates everywhere.” Everyone seemed to be meeting their soulmates, sitting around, and being all happy about it. 

“She wasn’t sure at first because she’d been painting all day and had dried paint all over her hands but when she really scrubbed it off later, she found a black smudge across her palm. She thinks she must have brushed against her soulmate during the day.”

“Good, now she can stay away from Simon," Alec said, trying to be supportive. He'd met Simon a few times and he couldn't see what all the fuss was about. He seemed like a nice enough kid, but a little dopey. Simon certainly didn't seem like Izzy's type but it looked like all the Lightwood were going against the grain these days. Maybe Jace really would run off with Peaches. 

Izzy sat the empty pan on the table, her mouth turned down at the corners.

“Not good?"

She twisted the ends of her ponytail around her finger, released it, then repeated the motion. It was what she did when she didn't know what to feel. "Oh, I don't know -- we were just getting to know each other--and. Now, its over," Izzy said glumly. 

First, she resented Clary, now she was bummed that Clary was going to meet her soulmate and be too busy to hang out anymore? 

Girls were complicated. Alec generally found that it was best to stay silent when he had no clue what reaction was wanted. Izzy would tell him what to feel.

She sighed. "Never mind. What's going on with you?"

“Oh, hell," he said, making a split-second decision. The only one he had confided in with this whole messy soulmate crap was Jace -- and Jace was hardly a font of thoughtful and measured wisdom. They'd been best friends and brothers for most of their lives. Jace was the yin to his yang, the Tweedle dee to his Tweedle dum. If Alec could pick his soulmate, he would pick Jace and they would be two bodies, one soul, and according to Izzy, one brain cell shared between them. 

He should probably tell Izzy.

"I have something I need to tell you but you have to wait until the end to call me insulting names.”

Izzy sat up, expression wary. “I make no promises but listen, if this is about Peaches--"

"No," Alec vehemently said. Why did everyone seem to have a story about Peaches? "I've been seeing someone."

"Yeah, you told me," Izzy replied, her mouth twitching. "You won't tell me anything about him, though."

There was a spot of crusted food on the arm of his couch – why was he so gross? Forget wine tasting, he needed to stop eating all of his goddamn meals in front of the television. He picked at the spot with his fingernail. "I thought he was my soulmate."

Her eyes went wide. "Alec! Oh my god. That's--"

"Not who I'm dating."

"-- not going to lie, kind of weird." She looked puzzled.

Alec shrugged a little helplessly. "When I met him, I thought he was my soulmate and then it turned out to be someone else."

She shook her head fondly. "Only you, Alec. So, what are you going to do?"

"Keep on dating him, I guess?" It was a weirdly wishy-washy way of expressing how he felt about Magnus, but Alec wasn't sure he had the words to describe how he actually felt about him.

“Wow, you're really going to buck the trend, huh?" 

Alec could tell she was trying to be supportive beneath the thin veneer of horror she was poorly masking. “Magnus is--”

“Wait, this is Magnus _Bane_? The guy that owns the medical equipment company that Mom's trying to steal?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," Alec said grudgingly. Mostly because if it was true, then that made Alec her accomplice. “I know it’s kind of a bad idea but--”

Izzy’s lip was white where it was wedged between her teeth. “I have something to tell you that might make you feel better or worse.” 

In the history of the universe, those particular words had proceeded good news like, never. But Alec had never been one to shy away from the truth, no matter how unpleasant. “Out with it,” Alec said, resigned. 

“You know how Clary works for Jace and she hears things, you know?” 

Alec nodded, trying to look patient. He was unpleasantly familiar with the finer intricacies of office politics and didn’t care to revisit them. He could deal with being known as “that cold bastard” if it meant that he didn’t have to look at endless pictures of people’s kids and pets.

“She overheard a conversation between Magnus and one of his associates the first day they went to the office. He asked you out because he wanted to find out what you knew about his company.” 

In a horrible sort of way, that made complete sense to Alec. He was just surprised that it hadn’t occurred to him before.

All of his life, Alec had been intimate acquaintances with disappointment: while he watched other people get what they wanted, he seemed to always have to make due with what he could get. The only thing that hurt right now was the slow trickle of inevitability; that other hurt would likely rear its ugly head later when he had time to think about it some more. He supposed he didn’t have any real reason to feel betrayed. After all, hadn’t they met because they’d been playing a game of chess with people’s jobs? With their lives? Alec was not the good guy in this mess, he had no illusions about that. But it didn’t make Magnus’ checkmate move any less painful.

“Thank you for telling me,” Alec managed. 

Izzy looked absolutely miserable. “Alec, I’m _sorry_.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Alec said, half on autopilot. Though it was true, and Alec wasn’t in a state to comfort her, it was still automatic for him. There was a part of him that would never really be able to blame her for anything bad. It was written into his DNA the same way that he was right-handed, he hated disappointing his parents, and Izzy would always be the infant his mother brought home from the hospital, squalling and red-faced until Alec had reached for her, small hands carefully cradling her downy head as he solemnly told his mother, “She’s mine.” 

Izzy would always be his. He leaned over and kissed her silky dark hair. 

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you – I didn’t want you to know at all, but if you’re deciding between your soulmate and this guy, you should know who you’re choosing.” 

He couldn't fault her logic. Alec glanced at his phone. It was well past midnight and he had to be up for work in the morning. He never stayed up this late, but he’d been making all kinds of bad, irresponsible choices since meeting Magnus. “You have class in the morning," Alec reminded Izzy.

"I remembered," she replied gently. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you alone right now."

Alec felt strange; it was almost as if the last half-hour had been superimposed over the rest of the evening. He could feel the sting of betrayal but it was a dulled thing. Most of him still felt that sense of warm contentment with Magnus leaning against him, feet tucked up, Alec's hand wrapped around his ankle. It didn't make _sense_. Alec felt dizzy even trying to fit the two realities together.

“I want to be alone," he said. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Really, I’m fine,” Alec lied and from somewhere, he managed to dredge up a smile. "I need some time to rethink some things."

Izzy couldn't hold back a yawn any longer; her eyes were heavy-lidded, smudged with dark circles. She'd told him a few weeks ago that grad school was kicking her ass, but Alec knew that Izzy would stay awake all night for him if he let her.

"I'll call you in the morning," he offered. "I'm just going to go to bed now anyway."

She nodded slowly. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." He leaned over and gave her hair another kiss. She'd stop letting him do that somewhere in between middle school and high school. Sometime in the past five years or so, she'd decided he was no longer super embarrassing. 

She stood up and he walked her to the door. "You'll call if you need me?"

"Promise," Alec said and closed the door behind her.

After Izzy left, he was alone again.

Though he doubted he would get any sleep tonight, he might as well try not to outright lie to Iz and at least lay down. He stripped down to his boxers, changed into a thin cotton shirt, and got ready for bed. Later, he wouldn't remember washing his face or using the toilet, but he would remember the way his toothbrush clattered in the bathroom sink, dropped by suddenly nerveless fingers. He covered his face with his hands and sunk down to the floor where the tile was cool and hard against his knees. He didn't quite have it in him to cry nor did he think he deserved to. Was what Magnus did really any worse than what Alec was currently trying to do? Maybe, maybe not. Didn't stop the tightness in his chest or the way his shoulders shuddered and heaved. He couldn't catch his breath and he stretched out on the floor, shaking. He would get through this, he told himself. Lightwoods always did.

He remembered his mom once taking off her gloves and touching his forehead so carefully, her hands soft and cool. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into the floor, imaging it was her.

After a while, his chest loosened and the black around his vision receded. Alec somehow managed to peel himself up off the floor and found his phone where it was tucked in the pocket of his discarded pants. Without letting himself think about it too closely, he dialed a number. When a sleepy phone answered, Alec took a deep breath and said, “Mom? I think I made a big mistake.” 


	9. Chapter 9

He watched the second hand of the clock _tick-tick-tick_ as his mom drummed her fingers across the glass top of her desk.  
  
She didn't look happy. Alec sunk a little lower in his chair. "I've got a plan."  
  
One thing that Alec always appreciated about his mother -- indeed, until now, it was a trait they shared -- was that she _always_ had a plan. No matter how much of a fuck up, you were still a Lightwood and Lightwoods protected their own.  
  
Last night, after pouring his heart out to his mother, she had, in a very calm and reassuring voice, told him not to do anything stupid and to meet with her first thing in the morning.  
  
She must be tired; judging by the thick stack of folders on her desk, she'd been working all night, but she still looked immaculate, soft camel-colored gloves carefully matched to a fitted pantsuit. Weirdly, it made him think of Izzy last night demanding to stay up all night with him.  
  
There was a comfort in his mother’s firm belief that she always knew the correct course of action. After weeks of back and forth and confusion, that kind of surety felt good.  
  
"I talked to your brother and he filled me in on the details." She took a deep breath. "I don’t even know what to say. What could you possibly have been thinking?"  
  
Every time he felt like an adult, like he had slightly untangled the mess of his life, his mom could reduce him to a squirming child in seconds. "Of all people, _Magnus Bane_ ?"  
  
"I thought he was my soulmate," Alec said lamely. He didn't think that she needed to know that he actually accepted a date before thinking Magnus was his soulmate. Alec stared down at his hands; they were large, prone to ink stains and spilling coffee and making terrible meat confections. He’d trained his body to obey him, had mostly grown into his gangly limbs, but he’d never quite mastered his hands. Or his heart. He just wished the price of that flaw wasn’t his parents’ pride in him.  
  
Maryse rubbed her temples, the only concession she made to being tired. She took a seat, the leather squeaking beneath her. "Yeah, soulmates make you do stupid things."  
  
She sounded like she was speaking from experience, but he couldn't imagine his mom ever doing something so foolhardy. He’d always assumed that she’d been born with perfect posture and wearing sensible pumps.  
  
"Well," she said, all business again, "there's nothing to be done for it -- you'll have to marry him. His family agrees. "  
  
"Pardon?" Alec choked out, sure that he had misheard her. He gripped the armrests of the chair hard enough to hear the wood creak.  
  
"It's how things are done in families like ours," she said, purposely ignoring his look of abject horror. "I've looked into his family extensively, they're very respectable. At least you chose someone suitable," she added as if he had any choice in the matter.  
  
"I--I have to talk to him," Alec stuttered, dismayed to realize that since this whole thing began, he'd been actively avoiding Underhill, going to so far as to keep odd hours and using the stairs rather than risk running into him in the elevator. On the one hand, it was cowardly and selfish. On the other hand, his ass muscles were looking _fabulous_.  
  
And what sort of person avoided their soulmate, Alec wondered. The kind that's in love with someone else, his mind whispered traitorously back.  
  
"You do stupid things for love," his mom said again. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and she was absently rubbing one hand with the other as she stared out the nearest window. He didn’t think she was seeing any of it, though.  
  
Above them both, the clock Maryse once got as a gift for making her parents proud carried on, as time did. _T_ _ick-tick-tick._  
  
  
\---

  
  
It was time. Alec gritted his teeth. It didn't mean that he was looking forward to it, though.  
  
He took the stairs slowly, snagged a coffee at the kiosk on the ground floor, then slowly made his way up to Underhill's floor. Underhill's office was on the side, near the center of the building. His job wasn't prestigious enough for a corner office but he had also managed it without his family's help, something that Alec envied.  
  
The door was open. Alec took a deep breath and knocked on the door jamb. Inside, he could see Underhill leaning back in his chair, corded phone propped in-between his chin and shoulder as he flipped through a stack of papers.  
  
Alec took the opportunity to study his profile. Lean, athletic build, a riot of dirty blond curls. He was, if Alec were pressed for an answer, handsome- _ish_. He certainly wasn't _offensive_ -looking, and Alec secretly suspected that if he wasn't half in crazed lust with Magnus, he might have even been attracted to him.  
  
Underhill held up a finger without turning around as he rattled off a stream of numbers. He worked in forensic accounting, a phrase that started off exciting and ended with Alec wanting to take a nap.  
  
Finally, Underhill hung the phone up and swiveled around to the door. When he saw Alec, his eyebrows made a run for the Canadian border. Alec felt like doing the same.  
  
“Can we talk?"  
  
"Depends," Underhill said, mouth twitching, "are you done acting like a total freak?"  
  
Alec couldn’t fault him – that seemed like a fair reading of his previous behavior. "Yes," he said, still sounding a little sullen as he slouched into the seat across from Underhill. Alec tapped his fingers against the leather armrests softly, a habit that he picked up from his mother. He was beginning to suspect they were terribly alike; he wasn't sure if the prospect pleased or horrified him. He tried to aim for a casual opening and ended up missing by a mile. "So, have you met a soulmate recently?"  
  
"You mean you?" Underhill said, expression ping-ponging somewhere between irritated and bemused. It settled in the neighborhood of amused disbelief.

"Yeah," Alec said again scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn't generally one to avoid confrontation, and it was no surprise to learn that he was lousy at it, but he didn't actually think this qualified. No, this was a swim tits-deep into a river of self-delusion that ran straight into an ocean of denial.

Alec had avoided Underhill because he'd known, even from the beginning, that this was his soulmate.  
  
"Why yes, I'd somehow noticed that my entire palm had turned black and it happened right after I touched you." He steepled his gloved hands in front of him. "That wasn’t definitive proof that it was you, of course, but your squirrelly behavior said otherwise." He shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a detective."  
  
Alec blew out a breath. What was he so _afraid_ of? He wasn't Magnus, but then again, he didn't need to be. There wasn't anything wrong with who he was already and he wasn't likely tap-dancing with joy at the prospect of being soulmates with a man who was hung up on someone else.

Alec eyed Underhill's black leather gloves; he looked like the Boston Strangler. Okay. Okay, Alec could do this. He owed this to Underhill and his family to give this a try.

"I'm sorry," Alec said regretfully. "I haven't been fair to you. Or kind."  
  
"I figured you just needed some time," Underhill said. He had kind eyes, which made Alec feel about ten times worse.  
  
"Underhill," Alec said a little helplessly.  
  
"I told you it was strange that you called me by my last name, but now it’s even creepier."  
  
Alec blinked. It had not occurred to him that Underhill even had a first name, which said unflattering things about himself. And apparently, he also had parents and a life outside of work. The things he knew about Underhill could be counted on one hand, which was a bit embarrassing. Alec knew that he was quiet, soft-spoken, and efficient. And he thought Alec was a bit weird, but he was friendly anyway. It was bizarre to think that he mostly liked what he knew of Underhill, and that he was entirely unprepared for that prospect. "What should I call you?"  
  
“My name?" His mouth twitched again, became a full grin. "You could always try Andrew.”  
  
"Our parents are already planning a wedding," Alec blurted out because he couldn't help himself from being blunt and honest and generally horrifying. He and Jace should start a club for people that tended to say the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment.  
  
"Yeah, I figured," Andrew said nonchalantly like it was no big deal that his life had been signed away without his consent.  
  
Some part of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because Andrew got up, circled his desk, and took a seat next to Alec. "Do you want to know my theory about this whole soulmate madness?" he said, looking thoughtful. He leaned close as Alec nodded. "I think acceptance, being open to falling in love is a large part of it. I don’t think you can make that connection until you're open to the possibility."  
  
That made a certain amount of sense. A part of Alec must have been looking for the connection, craving it. Even if he dreaded the idea of being beholden to a stranger, he'd been _lonely_.  
  
"So, you're really willing to marry me?"  
  
Underhill shrugged again. "Maybe? I'd probably like to go on a date first."  
  
"Yeah," Alec agreed, feeling a bit lost, "a date."  
  
  
\---  
  
  
He wasn’t expecting a night of great romance – Alec didn’t even bother changing out of his work clothes – but when Underhill got off at the stop at Washington and Sterline, he took him to a hole in the wall diner with cracked pleather seats and a Formica table that rocked every time someone walked past.  
  
They both ordered hamburgers and fries, and the burger was hot and juicy, the buns toasted and brushed with butter. Alec could feel his arteries clog with every glance at his food, but it tasted _fantastic_.  
  
Alec looked around appreciatively as he wiped his greasy fingers on a paper napkin. "I've lived in this city my whole life and never knew this place existed."  
  
"I thought you might like it here."  
  
Alec snorted. "Why, because I'm unsophisticated?”  
  
Andrew tilted his head, looking at Alec speculatively. Alec had looked at many people like that over the years; it was incredibly unsettling to be on the receiving end. "Because you don't like pretense."  
  
How Andrew understood this basic facet of him while they barely knew each other shook Alec, but then again, Alec was learning some things of his own. Andrew was nice, he was smart, and he was unrelentingly patient with all of Alec's bullshit.  
  
"What don't _you_ like?" Alec asked, genuinely curious, and that kicked off a lively discussion on the atrocity of modern remakes of classic films. As it turned out, they were both curmudgeonly, borderline unpleasant, one might say, and Izzy often did, about their opinions.  
  
At the end of the night, as they were saying their goodbyes, Alec was surprised to find that he'd had a good time.  
  
Alec stood outside the diner, hands in his jacket pockets, doing the end of date shuffle. With Magnus, Alec had felt a spark, but here there was only distance between him and Underhill. It wasn't necessarily a bad kind of distance. It was kind of a white blank space where maybe one day – a long time in the future – love _could_ exist.

It wasn't like that at all with Magnus. There was no _could_ , only what _was_ : immediate connection, hot and electric. But that was a carefully crafted lie, Alec savagely reminded himself, and this was real, so Alec should probably just shut up and be grateful that his soulmate wasn’t into like, dressing up like an adult baby or something.  
  
"Same time tomorrow?" Alec offered. “I’ll pick the place.” And if it hurt a little to ask, if it made something in his chest ache and splinter, then that was his business.


	10. Chapter 10

He seemed to hit his stride at work, which didn't particularly surprise him. Whenever the personal areas of his life went to shit, Alec could nearly always find solace in the mindless bloodthirst of his job. Nothing quite like dismantling an empire to serve as quick, profitable therapy. 

He was doing so well until his phone pinged, and he put down his pen to pick up his phone and tilt the screen towards him. It was a text from Magnus: _Is everything okay? Haven't heard from you._

His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and he had to clamp his lips shut to keep down the bile that rose in the back of his throat as he fought the very real urge to toss his phone out the window. Probably Magnus was sitting in his no-doubt luxurious office, texting Alec while laughing at his stupidity. Poor desperate Alec, jumping at the first good-looking guy to show him any attention in longer than he cared to admit.

His hands started shaking and he drew them into fists, pressing them into his thighs until the muscles ached and he’d have bruises there the next day. Alec couldn't sit there and think about Magnus without wanting to break something.

He got up without even bothering to turn off his computer or put up his files; if someone saw something they shouldn't, then tough shit. He managed to lock his office door behind him, though, on his way down to the HR floor. Jace was probably due for his mid-morning, pre-lunch, post breakfast break.

Just as suspected, when he found Jace in his office, he had a box of half a dozen donuts open on his desk and his gaming headphones on. "Dude," he said as he looked up when Alec came in without bothering to knock. "I could have been jerking it."

That stopped Alec cold in his tracks. "Why would you be doing that at work?" he asked, completely mystified. 

"I didn't say that I _was_ ,” Jace clarified, pulling off his headphones and tossing them onto his desk, “only that I _could have been_."

Alec shook his head. “I cannot believe they made you the head of HR.”

Jace smiled at him serenely. “Isn’t nepotism a bitch?” He slid the box of donuts towards Alec. “Have one. I know you probably haven’t eaten all day.” Before Alec could open his mouth to object, he added, “And coffee doesn’t count.”

Chastized, Alec picked up the least offensively garish donut and took a seat across from Jace. He took a bite, wincing at the cloying sweetness, but his stomach growled and clenched with hunger. The company had two major deals closing at the end of the week, and he’d been having dinner with Andrew when they could both get away from the office, but that was just about the only food that wasn’t a hasty sandwich from a cart or coffee mainlined directly into his veins.

“Not that I’m complaining about the visit, but shouldn’t you be elbow-deep in boring reports and drinking the company Koolaid?”

“You’re HR,” Alec pointed out, “if I’m drinking the Koolaid, you’re mixing it up and serving it.”

“Touche,” Jace said, nodding sagely. 

“I’ve got a problem,” Alec said. 

"Sure, Jace, thanks for meeting me. It's so good to see you looking so handsome and well dressed," Jace said aloud. He grabbed the box of donuts, took out a pink one, and then proceeded to pick off all the sprinkles before eating it. 

"Are you well-dressed?" Alec asked curiously, squinting at him. It wasn't like Alec was any kind of sartorial wunderkind but he thought Jace was just wearing his usual button-down with his scuffed leather jacket. "You've got a stain--" he said, pointing at the center f Jace's chest. Jace made an outraged sound and Alec asked, "Is this for Clary? Are you trying to impress her?"

Jace's cheeks turned as pink as his revolting donut. "No, I just wanted to look nice for my 2 pm meeting with Herbert. Is that so wrong?"

Alec did not know who Herbert was, not did he find he particularly care. "Clary has a soulmate, you know." Alec felt like a heel just for pointing it out. Way to kick a dude while he was out and wearing a stained shirt.

"I know," Jace said, shoulders sagging.

"Weren't you the one that told me that the soulmate system existed for a reason and that those that skirted the system ultimately paid a terrible price?"

"That doesn't sound like me," Jace maintained, a mulish set to his jaw.

"I'm paraphrasing," Alec pointed out.

"I find that I liked the system until it no longer worked in my favor." Jace kicked his feet up on the desk, looking troubled. 

“That’s usually how it goes,” Alec said. 

“Speaking of,” Jace said, “how’s it going with Underhill?”

“How’d you find out about that?” Alec didn’t know why he was surprised; everyone at their company was terrible gossips, and the son of the CEO dating his soulmate was _news_. Alec itched all over just thinking about it.

Jace abruptly sobered. “Iz told me about Magnus. Sorry.”

Alec gave a sickly shrug. “Hey, it led me to my soulmate, right?” He was stupidly grateful when Jace didn’t answer. For all his noisy bluster, he could be weirdly perceptive at times. “Besides, I guess it was good to know that he wasn’t even interested in me before I got in too deep. I can’t believe I thought--” He raked a hand through his hair. 

"What, you don't think he'd take one for the team?"

Alec shook his head. Talking about Magnus felt like picking at a barely scabbed-over wound. "Yes? No? Maybe.” He tried and failed to come up with the adequate words to describe Magnus. “You see, he seems like a hippy-dippy we should all be individuals sort of guy but he isn’t. He absolutely believes in sacrifice and the greater good. He grew in a military town."

Magnus, who absolutely believed in the sanctity of the individual, but had a great admiration for camaraderie, brotherhood. Magnus had grown up an only child. Maybe we all spent our lives looking for what we couldn't have in our formative years. If there was anyone he'd do something onerous like dating Alec for, it was -- 

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. Wait, who better to shield Magnus from the Lightwoods than the _military_? That was why his contacts at various hospitals couldn't seem to locate the contract with Bane Ltd. -- the contract was with the Defense Health Agency, likely with contacts Magnus had made at the Directorate of Procurement when he lived next to a _goddamn military base._ The only hospital system with pockets deep enough to buy Magnus' revolutionary tech and secretive enough that even most senators wouldn't be aware of it, was the entire fucking Department of Defense.

"Well, I'll be goddamned," Alec muttered. Magnus with his surprising personality kept having the awful side effect of surprising him. "It's a military contract.” Alec jumped up from his chair and tossed the last of his donut into the trash, mind already racing ahead ten steps.

“Did something just happen?” Jace looked around the room. "I feel like something important just happened."

“I figured out how to acquire a majority share in Magnus’ company!” he yelled out as he practically sprinted out the door.

“Good talk,” he heard Jace call out faintly behind him.

\---

By the time he got back to his office, Magnus had texted him again: _???_

Followed by: _Is everything okay?_

Alec noted bitterly that he seemed to spend all of his time desperately trying to unwind the puzzle of Magnus, as he flipped through his Rolodex, looking for his personal contact in the DHA. She owed him a favor and if Alec could get the DHA to pull their support, then Magnus’ contract could be held up in bureaucratic red tape bullshit for _years_. All it would take was a few greased palms and well-placed threats to make sure that.

Magnus didn’t have years and his minority stakeholders wanted to see a return on their investment six months ago. He had sunk his inheritance and every last dime he had into this company and he needed the cash influx to stay afloat.

Alec was about to shatter it, grind everything he had worked for into dust. Magnus was a man who tried to help people, even if he had to do terrible things to do it. Even if Alec disliked his methods, there was something to admire about his sheer spirit, and it was that thought more than any that made Alec pause. Divorced from his personal hurt and the hot, sore tangle of his emotions, he had to ask himself if the world would really be a better place for Alec having rubbed Magnus’ legacy out of it? Would Alec be a better person? There were some things you couldn’t come back from.

But this was who Alec was. He loved his family, and he took pride in his job. He was raised for this job, and if he didn’t have this, then he didn’t have anything.

Alec picked up his phone and started dialing his contacts.

\---

Alec was tapping his fingers against the edge of the desk while Andrew made some last-minute changes on some work. It was a novel experience, waiting while someone else finished -- it was almost always Alec who had to be peeled away from his office. He was haunted by the photos of wedding cakes his mother had sent him this morning. Why she thought that would entice him. Alec didn't know; he found cake itself almost as horrifying as the prospect of forever wedded bliss. Try as he might to develop a taste for them, they always were a little too neat, a little bit cloying for a guy like him. Still, he had to try to forget Magnus. His plans were already in the works and he'd sent his progress report to his mother earlier. It was done, and Alec could finally move on. 

Alec slammed his hand flat on the desk, making Andrew jump. “So, are we going to do this thing?”

Andrew paused, then slowly lowered the report he was reading, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Either you're way more invested in dinner than I thought or that the most unromantic proposal I’ve ever had."

"Can't it be both?" Alec asked, followed by, "Wait, how many have you had?"

Andrew did laugh then, his pale eyelashes catching in the light, golden rays framing his eyes. "You're the first." His chin was propped on his upturned hand as he studied Alec carefully. The way he said _first_ made it sound suspiciously like _last_.

"If we get married, I feel like there are probably some things you should know about me," Alec began cautiously. 

"Oh, dear." He sat back in his chair "There, I've mentally braced myself."

"I'm a terrible cook," Alec said, ticking his points off on his fingers.

"That's okay," Underhill replied easily, "we can order in."

"I've been told I dress like a JCPenney Mannequin only more boring," he continued doggedly on. "I had a fake girlfriend for far longer and more recently than I care to admit--"

Andrew held up his free hand. "Okay, all right, I get the point. All of this is -- really, a fake girlfriend?"

"Jessica Hawkblue." Alec could feel his face go crimson. He was sure he looked terrible. 

For some inexplicable reason, Andrew looked charmed.

“Why are you so okay with this?" Alec asked a little helplessly. "I’m no big prize?”

“Aren’t you? Who made you believe that?” Andrew asked, still watching Alec thoughtfully. “I know some other stuff about you too, want to hear it?"

Alec hated being described, but he nodded anyway.

"For starters, you’re handsome, you’re loyal to your family, and you’re smart. And despite your best efforts to hide it, you are decidedly nice- _ish_.” Andrew was still grinning, but his mouth had gone tense, his body still. Alec couldn't help but think that despite his casual attitude, this next part was really important to him. "Besides, I hate dating. I'm terrible at picking men." He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at his balled-up fists ruefully; there was a story there that Alec had not quite earned. Someone, Alec realized, had broken Andrew's heart and if he couldn't have what he really wanted, he was willing to settle for the next best thing. Alec let out a slow breath, strangely relieved to know that they had that in common, at least. Neither of them was going into this with any illusions. "I figured why not let the universe do it for me?"

"I'm not sure that was such a great idea."

He looked up at Alec then, his hands flat on his desk, overcrowded with work and haphazard stacks of paper. "It brought me you, didn't it?"

As crazy as it sounded, Andrew, Alec thought, _wanted_ him. He wanted to marry Alec despite his proclivity for working seventy hour work weeks, his occasionally bad personality. Andrew was a nice guy and both of their families wanted them to get married – if Alec couldn’t have what he wanted, then that didn’t mean everyone else shouldn’t. This was a good deal for them both, he thought. If neither of them could have their first choice, they could learn to be happy with what they were offered. Wasn't that what life was ultimately about?

He watched the yellowed light glance off Andrew's curls.

"Do you think the universe is always right?" Alec asked quietly.

"That's what the books say, isn't it?" Underhill answered. "Could they all be wrong?"

Alec swallowed and reached out to take Andrew's hand where it was outstretched, nearly halfway to Alec already. "No," he agreed, "they couldn't."


	11. Chapter 11

His mother wasted no time in ordering cakes, reserving venues, getting him fitted for a tux that had a godforsaken _cumberbund_. He stared at himself critically in the three-way mirror while a soft instrumental played in the background. The changing room was all dark wood and heavy lines, masculine luxe that made him wish he could order perfectly fitting suits online like he did his socks. His mother told him the cost was "being taken care of" in a no-nonsense voice that told Alec to get fitted, keep his mouth shut, and not embarrass her. This wasn't the kind of place that used price tags.

“Who wears these?” Alec said, aware that he was just being a prickly asshole at this point to cover up his soaring discomfort. He wiggled his toes in the lush pile of the cream carpet. 

“No, see, these are great,” Jace said, adjusting his cumberbund up a few inches. Any higher and he’d be basically wearing a bandeau over his tuxedo. “You can eat all kinds of food and then use this to suck your gut in.”

Jace did not look like he felt out of place, but then again, he never did. For all that he seemed like an open book most of the time, Alec sometimes wondered if he ever really knew what Jace was thinking. He was too good at deflecting.

Alec didn’t even know where to start with that one. Just then, Izzy came barging in with a hand over her eyes. “If you’re naked, you have six seconds to cover anything you don’t want to be seen.”

“What if I was jerking off?” Jace said.

“Why in god’s name is that the first thing that always comes to your mind?” Alec demanded. He turned towards Izzy, who was wearing a form-fitting gold dress. He’d told her that she didn’t have to come to the fitting but she was taking her best man duties seriously. 

“Really?” She eyed Alec’s tux critically. “If Andrew’s wearing a black tux, why’d you get stuck with the white?”

“You know me,” Alec said dryly, “I always said I was going to wear white to my wedding or nothing at all.”

Izzy put an arm around Alec’s shoulders and studied their reflections in the three-way mirror. Alec privately thought that Izzy just wanted to take some of the pressure off of her back-breaking heels. “I don’t know if gold and white look good together. I might need to rethink my dress.”

“Don’t do that, you look great,” Alec protested. And she did. The dress fit like a glove and set off her thick, dark hair. 

Izzy smiled against his shoulder. “What do you know about fashion?”

“Well, he may not know much,” Jace said, “but I know you’ll make one classy bride.”

“It’s going to be a long damn time before I get married,” Izzy declared.

“I was talking about Alec,” Jace replied. 

“Would you two get the hell out of here so I can change?” he asked, shoving them both out of the dressing room and laughing.

\---

His contact in the DOC let him know that the contract was effectively stalled. He knew Magnus was planing his phase II development in a few months funded by the government payment, but that wouldn’t be coming. Alec was the iceberg lying in wait for the titanic on a cold dark night. And if he felt sick every time he thought about it – well, it was his job, it was his family. And his stupid feelings were what got him into this mess in the first place. Alec ruthlessly pushed them down, shoved them to a box, and locked it, along with everything he was afraid to examine too closely. 

"You sure about this, buddy?" Jace asked, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

Alec took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and said honestly, “No, but I have to do it anyway.”

No, he wasn't sure at all but it wasn't like he had a choice. The venue was the kind of classy-garish that told him Jace had more than a hand in planning the event. The round tables had heavy brocade cloths on top of some shiny material that reflected the light from the heavy chandeliers that hung above each. It was beautiful and ostentatious and entirely too much; Alec couldn't help but think of one person who would have loved it.

At the center of it all was a round stage that held an improbably amount of half-dressed suspiciously shiny people. Bachelor parties were awful, and joint bachelor parties were even worse.

“You got male _and_ female strippers?”

"The only kind of person that's afraid of boy strippers are people that are insecure about their sexualities,” Jace said. 

"Yes," Alec agreed, "but can we not call them boy strippers? I find that _incredibly_ creepy."

But Jace wasn't listening to him. He seemed to be taken with a particularly well-oiled dancer front and center. "You think he lifts?" Jace murmured, eying his abs enviously. “I look better than him.”

“Sure, man,” Alec said comfortingly. He knew Clary was around here somewhere as sure as he knew that Jace was hopelessly in love with her and deeply afraid of his feelings. “You want me to get rid of him?” he asked gently.

“What, like, _kill_ him?”

Alec didn’t know whether to be more offended that was what Jace thought of him or that Jace looked like he was actually considering it. “No, I meant to pay him what he would have made for the night and send him home early. Why is killing people always the first place your mind goes?”

“I play too many video games,” Jace said. “At least that’s what mom says.”

He looked around for Andrew. It didn't take him long to spot him. Across the room, Andrew was sitting at a table, talking with a man, long dark hair pulled into a silly ponytail. Something about his easy, effusive grace reminded him of Magnus. Alec didn't put much stock in it, though; the brocade tablecloths _also_ reminded him of Magnus. 

The music overhead had a deep, throbbing bass that set Alec’s teeth on edge.

Didn't stop him from being jealous, though, because Alec was just _awful_. How dare that smarmy bastard encroach on his soulmate who Alec never even wanted in the first place. “Oh, Alec,” he muttered, “this is a new low, even for you.” Across the room, Andrew laughed at something his pony-tailed paramour said to him. Alec fought down an intense wave of dislike for the greasy bastard.

"Who is that?" Alec asked suspiciously, poking Jace in the side because he _sucked_.

"I don't know, I think one of Clary's friends from college? I know Izzy’s been hanging out with them.”

Alec stared at them for a moment longer. The way their heads were bent low and close together was intimate; it made his body ache and eyes sting. He blinked as he forced himself to look away.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He was certain it was Izzy, probably asking him why he insisted on skulking around his own joint bachelor party, but for a moment, he let himself hope it was Magnus. Maybe if time could fold like an origami form, bending in on itself over and over, he could go back to the beginning and make different, better choices.

He pulled out his phone, and his thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to see Magnus, to figure out exactly where his life had gone off the rails. He didn’t think Magnus could answer that for him, but he needed to ask anyway.

Maybe he just wanted to see Magnus.

Starling him out of his thoughts, a hand clapped down on his shoulder. Andrew leaned in close and yelled to be heard above the music. "Izzy's looking for you."

He shook his head, unsure what to say as Andrew watched him expectantly. Alec looked around his lavish, perfect party, his perfectly lovely fiance, and wanted to stop existing. The lights blurred, haloing above the tables.

“I can barely hear you,” Andrew said. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.” He steered Alec towards a previously hidden side door, neatly avoiding any pockets of people that looked like they might want to talk to them.

They stepped out the door into an alleyway, shielded from the wind by a large dumpster probably full of body glitter and thongs, considering the venue. The music faded as the door slammed shut behind them. Then it was just the two of them, standing in a damp alley, Alec shivering and trying to explain to his fiance why he needed to see another man, one preferably without a cover charge.

"I have to see someone," Alec said, staring down at the pavement. “Magnus – he was. Well.” There was a broken beer bottle next to his foot. This alley was almost as sad as this conversation.

"That was the guy you were dating before, right?"

Alec's head jerked up. "How did you know that?

"Your mother isn't the only one who does her homework." Oh, right. Andrew was a forensic accountant, so basically a professional busybody, not unlike Alec himself. He wasn't sure why he was continually surprised by the fact that the universe had apparently chosen someone just like himself as his soulmate. Andrew continued, "I was surprised that you'd never mentioned him before. I kept expecting you to say something."

Alec shrugged a little painfully. "What was there to say? I wanted a relationship with him and he wanted a scoop on the company."

"Really? Ouch." Andrew nodded. "Unfinished business, I get it. 

"Do you really?"

It seemed like too much to ask of him. Andrew just wanted a handsome husband, an end to the drudgery of dates, a soulmate to come home to. It was a reasonable goal – but Alec wanted – he didn’t know what he wanted. If he could force himself to stop thinking about Magnus, stop thinking about the possibility of them, then he would in a heartbeat. But he’d tried that, and now he was slowly shaking apart at the seams.

Andrew looked away, then back again. It was dark outside and the only light was a streetlamp in front of the building, a narrow beam creeping towards them. In the distance, an ambulance siren wailed, and a block away, a drunken party laughing and breaking up for the night. The city was a live, pulsating thing. He could see Andrew's face outlined in a sliver of gold. "Yeah, if I'd had the chance to -- yeah, I get it." He swallowed as if it hurt him to do it. 

Alec leaned back against the brick wall. It was probably _covered_ in piss.

Andrew reached out then, took Alec's hand, and laced their fingers together. His palm was warm and dry, a slight callous in between his fingers from writing everything down in pen. He told Alec on one of their dates that it helped him spot patterns by writing things out. He also highly objected to digital watches and VPNs, even though his career existed almost entirely online. He was so analog and contrarian, it hurt Alec's brain just to think about it. "I had a fake girlfriend in high school too," he said out of nowhere. "Chloe Boucher. She went to a different school, of course." His eyes crinkled at the corners. 

The change of topic took Alec by surprise. "She was French?"

"Oui," Andrew said, grinning widely then.

Alec couldn't help but smile back. "Not that I'm objecting to this prime bribery material, but why are you telling me this? Why now?"

Andrew's face went serious, and if his expression was a little sad, Alec didn't call him on it. "I know you don't feel it -- the possibility of us, not yet at least. But I know that we could be so great together if you let go of whatever that’s holding you back. I think this could be it. Whatever this is, lay it to rest tonight. No questions asked." His hand squeezed Alec’s, "Because after tomorrow, we’ll be married. And I don't believe in sharing. Alec, you have to let him go. You have to give us a chance to really be happy together."

So Alec did the only thing he could, he tugged Andrew closer and pressed a kiss against his cheek, and breathed, "Thank you."

\---

He texted Magnus once he caught a cab. _Can we talk? Are you busy?_

He sat in the backseat with the meter running, staring at his phone with a rising sense of dread. He hadn’t even bothered to respond to all of Magnus’ texts. He had every right to blow Alec off now.

After about fifteen minutes and $10 later, Magnus texted back a simple address. Alec told the driver and sagged back in the seat. Outside the windows, the city lights flashed by. It was cold outside, the temperature dropped as the night crept in. Alec sighed, his forehead against the window.

When the cab pulled up to a building, Alec was sure the cabbie had made a mistake. The building was a shambling mess, the windows of the entire ground floor boarded up. He double-checked the address on his phone, then got out of the cab.

If Magnus had sent him to a crack den to get mugged, then Alec supposed he had it coming. Hesitantly, he knocked on the front door before he noticed a buzzer. He pushed the button and cleared his throat. “Ah, I’m looking for Magnus Bane?”

He heard a buzz and the mechanical snap of the lock as the door swung open. Alec stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him. There was a rickety elevator and Alec took it to the top floor, the only button available.

The doors slid open to reveal a carpeted hallway and plain walls that terminated at a carved richly lacquered door. Alec knocked on it, somehow completely unsurprised to see Magnus open it. He’d somehow come to expect the unexpected from him.

Upon seeing Alec, the first thing Magnus said was, "I heard congratulations were in order."

His lips were pressed together; a muscle in his jaw ticked. Alec was no expert in Magnus’ expressions, but if he had to hazard a guess, he would head to the nearest bomb shelter in preparation for this conversation.

“How did you find out?"

Magnus took a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to calm down. Eventually, he grimaced and held the door open for Alec, stepping back to let him pass. "Peaches told me. And if I hadn't heard from him, then I don't know how I could have missed the full page spread in the New York Times."

"Jesus Christ." Alec assumed that was his mother's doing. She never had met a full-page spread that she hadn't liked. 

Magnus shrugged. "It was a good picture. You stand out."

Of course, his mother couldn't pass by the opportunity to make his engagement all about the Lightwoods. Good _God_. A full-page engagement announcement with just a photo of Alec -- he might as well have blinking lights above his head declaring himself a douchebag. 

"Nice to finally see you, I guess," Magnus said. "Glad you didn't totally ghost me. I appreciate it. You know, not a lot, but--"

His hair was soft, ungelled. He was wearing a silky overshirt with delicate embroidery at the edges and a deep vee in the front, matched with loose dark pants and no socks. Alec could see the delicate bones of his feet, remembered curling his hand around that narrow ankle and thinking he finally understood his place in the world. "Why didn't you tell me about the reason you started dating me?" Alec blurted out. If Magnus had just told him, Alec could have forgiven him. _Would_ have forgiven him. 

Magnus' shoulders slumped and he cursed softly. "That's what this was about? I knew you'd find out." He sat on the armrest of a club chair, purple and lush velvet.

"Clary told me. Or, okay, she told Jace, who told Izzy who told me."

"So you're basing your decision to marry a stranger based on a game of telephone."

When put that way, it did seem monumentally stupid. "So, tell me it wasn't true," Alec said, feeling bold, reckless. He was stuck playing a game of Russian roulette with his future and his heart. One of them was going to lose tonight.

If possible, Magnus slumped down even further. It wasn't a good look on him. "It's true."

He could feel something inside himself crumble, and he only had one question he could ask. " _Why_?"

"Are you seriously going to tell me that you wouldn't have done the same?" 

"I wouldn't have," Alec contested hotly, even as he began to doubt himself. He had, over the course of his career, done some deeply shitty things. The fact that he had never sunk quite that low was possibly the only testament to the fact that no one had asked it of him. If it were, say, his entire company and countless lives on the line, then maybe asking out a competitor to mine for intel wouldn't have seemed like such a personal compromise. Besides, no one ever did get to the top without being some flavor of bastard or another.

"It started out that way," Magnus said, "but that's not why I _kept_ seeing you. I was going to tell you, but there never seemed to be a good time."

"Right," Alec said dully.

Magnus looked up at him then. "Is that why you're marrying Underhill?"

"No," Alec answered. It might have started out that way, but it had ceased being about Magnus a long time ago. "It's what's best for the company."

Magnus laughed bitterly. "Best for the company. That's _hot_."

“Hey," Alec said, suddenly angry, "what do you know about family? Or loyalty?” For some people, being bold came easy. Alec had never been like that and his parents' love meant too much to him. Possibly because it had always been conditional. He immediately felt bad for saying it, though. Way to hit below the belt. "Magnus - I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

On the far side of the room was a bar cart and Magnus wordlessly poured himself two fingers of whisky. Then he took a low, shuddering breath, staring down at the amber liquid. "Maybe you're right that I don't know anything about families, but I do know that loyalty isn't supposed to come at the expense of who you are. That's not loyalty, that's subservience and you're better than that."

Alec didn't have a response to that. He really wasn't, but it was nice that Magnus thought so, he supposed. It was so easy for some people to be _good._ Somewhere along the way, Alec had convinced himself that the good of the company was for the good of all when nothing could have been further from the truth. Monolithic companies always made their fortunes on the backs of hourly wage workers, usually breaking those backs in the process. 

Magnus asked suddenly, “Do you love him?”

Alec didn't have to ask who he meant. “I like him,” Alec hedged. "He's warm -- nice." He was aware that it sounded like he was describing a favored pair of socks. 

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to bake a cake with him,” Magnus said impatiently, “I asked if you were _in love with him_.”

“I thought you said soulmates were a beautiful thing," Alec said evenly. He was deliberately avoiding answering the question directly because the answer was yet another thing that made him feel a little ashamed. 

“They are but only if you’re truly happy with yours." Magnus drained his glass and slammed it against a side table that held a stack of old jazz records, the edges faded and fuzzed. If this had been a date, Alec would have asked which one was his favorite. He had no right to that information now and he never would. "What’s the rush with Underhill?”

“My mom wants it," Alec answered absently. His glass still held two ice cubes and they were melting slowly, leaving beads of moisture on the table.

“And you always do what your mom wants? I know that's not true. I remember the first time I met you – you stood up to your mother.”

“That’s not the first time we met,” Alec corrected him, exasperated. “We met in the elevator.” He should remember; it was the meeting that kicked off his very own unlikely and just as miserable set of unfortunate events.

Magnus shook his head stubbornly. “No, that was the first time I _saw_ you. The meeting was the first time I _met_ you.”

He had so much faith in Alec's inherent goodness that the weight of it was crushing. It was so, so misplaced. Alec took a step back and sagged back against the wall. “Oh, Magnus, I think I fucked up.”

Magnus snorted. “Marrying someone you hardly know?”

His knees were shaking. He didn't think they were going to hold his weight up. "No, it's worse."

Magnus looked concerned now. “What have you done?”

“I found your military contract," Alec said miserably. His legs did give out and he slid down the wall, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. It was a childish gesture, but then again, he'd been acting like a child.

Magnus blinked. Of all the responses Alec had expected -- general tears and wailing and gnashing of teeth -- a startled, "So?" wasn't one of them. 

Perhaps he was in shock, Alec thought. "Magnus, Magnus," Alec said urgently from his position on the floor. "I found the contract with the military and stalled it. My mother's going to make a bid for a controlling interest by the end of the week. When word gets out about the contract, she'll have enough proxy votes to fire you and liquidate the company."

Magnus laughed and and refilled his glass. "She can _try_."

"She's not just going to try," Alec insisted. "I've seen her do this a dozen times over -- and I let her. I _helped_ her."

Magnus sighed, poured a second glass, and crossed the room until he sat down on the floor knee to knee with Alec. He held the half-full glass out to Alec, who took it gratefully and drank it entirely too quickly. It burned the whole way going down, but unfolded in the aftermath, sweet and smokey. “I’m getting funding through a grant. That’s why you couldn’t find the contract for so long, there is no real contract. The thing with the military – I’m giving them the tech.”

Maybe it was the whiskey, but the room was spinning uncomfortably. Alec couldn't understand what Magnus was telling him. It flew in the face of everything he had ever known and he felt shaken to his core. Magnus had private, innovative medical technology and stood to make a _fortune_. Instead, he was opting to take a meager grant to continue operations and he was giving away his intellectual property for free. 

“Why would you do that?” Alec muttered. "It doesn't make _sense_."

"Doesn't it? I want to help people."

"We do that by upholding the principles of a free market in capitalist society."

Magnus looked unfathomably sad. He reached out to press his palm against Alec's face, his thumb making little circles there. “Oh, my darling, you have no idea just how damaged you are.”

Alec dropped the empty glass from numb fingers. So, this had all been for nothing. During all of his research, both prospective and in-depth, Alec had never thought to account for a CEO that didn't care about turning a profit. "Oh, Jesus," he breathed. He'd fucked everything up. His mother was going to fucking _kill_ him. 

Still didn’t change anything, though. Even while he felt the world beneath him shift, everything he thought he knew changing, rearranging itself in a picture that he didn't quite recognize, he still had a fiance. He still had obligations, and however it had begun, Alec had come to care for Andrew and his old-fashioned watches, his love of surfing, and his stories of classy imaginary french girlfriends.

Alec bit his lip, his heart racing. His body hurt, every inhalation felt like breathing glass shards. 

"Relax," Magnus said from far away. "You're having a panic attack."

He felt strong arms come around him, hoisting him up off the floor and laying him out on a soft leather couch. Magnus was in front of him, hand raking through Alec's hair, as he told him to slow his breathing. 

“Please, please,” Alec whispered, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth of Magnus' hand. He didn't even know what he was asking for. 

"I'm here," Magnus said. 

"Come --" Alec said. "Just closer."

The hand in his hair stilled. "You have a fiance," Magnus said carefully.

"No, just -- lay with me for a while?" He didn‘t like to think about it, let alone say out loud that this might be the last time he had the chance to hold and to be held by someone he truly loved. He thought Magnus knew anyway. Behind him, the couch dipped as Magnus wedged himself in. It was a lovely couch, but not meant for two fully grown men.

As soon as Magnus settled in, the hand resumed. Magnus' breath against the back of his neck was warm and damp, a little bit sour from the liquor.

"I'm so sorry," Alec said. 

"For what?" 

"For _everything_. Oh fuck, Magnus, I'm so sorry."

"Alexander," Magnus said slowly, "do you think that I asked you out on accident? That I didn't know who you were?" 

"You asked me out to find out information about my mother's company," Alec said ruefully. It felt good to say it out loud. He found that removed from any real consequence, and with a bit of time and distance, it no longer had the power to hurt him. It wasn't quite funny, but he could see where it might be eventually.

"Afterwards," Magnus said, "when I changed my mind, when you were still digging into my financials and interviewing my second-grade classmates. Alec, I've always known exactly who you were."

Alec craned his neck to look up at Magnus. "And you liked me despite it?"

Magnus looked surprised. "No, I liked you _because_ of it. You're bullheaded and socially awkward and kind and loyal, even if you place that loyalty with people that don't always deserve it."

It was dark outside the windows, the city lights shining and winking. New York would never have bright, open skies; these were the only stars they'd ever have. Alec was aware that time was ticking away. He could feel the moments pass as sure as he could feel his own heartbeat. This was a stolen moment, a solitary dark space carved out just for the two of them.

He'd never been able to dig up much about Magnus' past. "Tell me about growing up?" He wanted it all; he wanted to squeeze the lifetime they should have had together into this one lonely night.

So Magnus told him about the soldiers who would give him sweets, and about how he didn't learn that they were bad until later. He told Alec how it took him a long time to understand that hatred was a learned thing, and that everybody was worth saving. 

He asked Alec about growing up with two siblings. Alec told him how he'd always adored Izzy, but Jace took him longer. He didn't know how to love the prickly secretive boy that came to live with them, and that he'd come to understand that any strong emotion – love, hatred, even dispassion – they were all like muscles. You had to use them to make them grow stronger. He'd never told his parents he was gay, he hadn't needed to. They'd never told him that fact disappointed them, but they hadn't needed to do that either. Alec told him about how he compensated for this disappointment by doing everything else perfectly, and how terrified he was to fail. And when he was done talking, Alec felt scooped hollow, torn open and ripped inside out, like a raw nerve exposed to the air for the very first time.

It was growing lighter outside as the night gave way to the creeping morning. Alec felt like crying, his throat was scratchy from talking, his eyes swollen and hot. “I wish it had been you," Alec confessed in a hushed whisper. "It _should have been you_.”

Magnus made a hurt sound behind him, and Alec turned his head, felt Magnus touch his neck, his jaw. The dawn was coming, breaking just over the city line. Magnus reached out, curled careful fingers around him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Alec's. The light touch undid him entirely; his kiss was utterly devastating. If there was a purpose to it, if Alec could ever express the sheer terrifying freedom of the kiss and how it simultaneously made him aware of all that he had lost, he would say that it was both a hello and a goodbye.

He would say that it was love.

“Stay, please,” Magnus said, his voice cracking. “Don't go, we can work this out. Stay with me.”

“I can’t," Alec said, already pulling away. The sun was up now, and it was his wedding day. Out there was a man that didn't deserve to be jilted and he was waiting for Alec. They all were.

When he got to the door, he couldn't help but look back. Magnus was sitting on the couch alone, clothes rumpled, hair a mess. Alec had vowed one day to see him like this: soft and rumpled after spending the night together, but this was not what he had planned at all. Magnus was staring at the wall, his mouth a soft moue of unhappiness. “You’ll be lonely all of your life and so will he.”

“I know,” Alec said regretfully and left.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more part to go. just an epilogue.

When he gets to the church, Izzy is waiting on him, eyes wide.

"Whoa," he says, stopping short. Her hair is a decidedly platinum blonde, pulled back into some elaborate type of braid. Well, she’d asked him if she should go blonde but he hadn’t thought she’d _meant it._

She clearly doesn't have time for his nonsense. She grabs the front of his jacket with both hands and hauls him bodily through the front door. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you."

"Out," Alec says, dodging the question like his life depends on it. And if his mother finds out where he spent the night, it just might. Izzy shoves him along down a dark corridor towards a room in the back behind a heavy set of mahogany doors just off of the atrium. In the room, there's a small organ, and across the matching bench, his tuxedo is laid out. Alec's mouth goes dry at the sight.

"I'll leave you alone so you can change," Izzy says, and before Alec can turn around, beg her not to leave, the door is closing behind her and he's in the room alone. It looks like a storage room that might have once been an office. Up high, there's a stained-glass window with a figure of an austere nun in the center. He thinks, reaching back into his memory, that she's Faustina, the patron saint of mercy.

He sighs and pulls off his clothes, slowly slipping it the pieces of his tuxedo. He tugs at his jacket sleeves -- they're an inch too short. He was supposed to go back for a second fitting but just couldn't bring himself to do it.

There's a knock on the door and Alec tells whoever it is to come in. It's Izzy and seeing her head of golden-blonde hair is still a shock to his system.

“I don’t see why I have to marry my soulmate,” Alec tells her, knowing he’s being childish. He's staring at his reflection in the mirror, the mulish set of his jaw. He'd agreed to this, but last night, wrapped up next to Magnus on his narrow couch, nothing had made sense anymore. None of his reasons for doing anything had seemed quite good enough in the face of how _right_ being with Magnus had felt.

“You don’t have to do anything, but--“ Izzy looks around uneasily as if the soulmate police were going to rappel down from the ceiling and arrest Alec for being a crappy groom.

Outside of this small room, he knows the church is beautiful, decked out in blooming cornflower blues with gold accents, but Alec can barely stand it, the thought of walking down the aisle. “--but no one doesn’t _not_ marry their soulmate.”

“He’s kind of boring,” Alec murmurs. The reality has been staring him in the face for a while now, impossible to miss now that he’s seen it. The long work weeks, the loyalty to family, the general lackadaisical attitude towards romance: whatever else the universe might be trying to tell him, it apparently believes Alec's soulmate is a carbon copy of himself.

Izzy looks like she’s fighting back a grin. “A little bit but so are you,” she agrees. “Besides, you wouldn’t be soulmates if there wasn’t _something_ you guys had in common.” She frowns, red lips pursed thoughtfully. “At least he’s _polite_.”

“Great. We can eat white bread and milk and be polite for the rest of our lives.”

At one point, that kind of easy existence might have been something he craved. If Andrew's theory was right, and you had to be willing to accept a soulmate to get matched with one, then maybe the universe or biology or whoever was in charge of this terrifying existence matched you with the right person for the moment.

Maybe, and this is the scariest thought of all, there is no one in charge at all, absolutely no reason to the universe to be found.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” Izzy says, face going serious. “Mom and Dad will be pissed, but they’ll survive. Can’t say the same for you, but I vow to shield you with my body.”

“That won’t be necessary but the offer is appreciated,” Alec says, forcing a smile. In the mirror, he looks pale, sickly, with dark purple smudges beneath his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping well. “Besides, as you said – everyone marries their soulmate. And it’s what’s best for the family.” He sounds like he's desperately trying to convince himself, and he is.

Izzy sighs. She does that a lot when talking to Alec. “I wish you wouldn’t let that factor into your decision.” Izzy is younger than Alec. He doesn't hold their birth order against her, but it's impossible for her to understand what being raised in a particular role feels like. And in particular, what it feels to fail at it. Alec straightens his tie just to give himself something to do. On the wall, the clock ticks loudly.

There's something slick and oily coiling in his gut, a bone-deep knowledge that this is _wrong, wrong, wrong_. He shrugs the feeling off. “No decision to make. I’m five minutes away from walking down the aisle.”

"Yeah," Izzy says, looking worried.

“I can’t believe this is happening," Alec mutters. His knees are shaking.

“Neither can I,” Izzy says. “Who would have thought when you guys met that you’d end up being soulmates?”

“No one,” Alec answers morosely. His body and soul feel like they weigh a thousand pounds; Izzy’s going to have to drag him down the aisle in a wheelbarrow. “Least of all me.” Not when he had barely noticed Andrew for Magnus. " _Everyone_ marries their soulmate," he mutters to himself desperately.

"Alec," Izzy says, hesitantly, and then more sure as he turns to stare at her. “I have something to show you.” She's carefully unpinning her hair.

"Iz,” Alec says uncertainly. He doesn’t know anything about fashion, but this seems like a poor time to change her mind about her hairstyle.

"No, just let me do this." Her hair falls down like a yellow cascade past her shoulders, nearly the same color as her golden dress. "You know I've been thinking of bleaching my hair and I figured, why not go for it? Really piss mom off at your wedding."

"Thanks."

"Clary helped me," she says, and how that her hair is down, he can see that it's in one of those complicated braids Clary does for her. "You know when she met her soulmate but couldn't figure out when?"

A dread is growing in the pit of his stomach, and he watches as Izzy combs her fingers through her long hair. It's not apparent at first, but the shape begins to crystallize as her hair falls into place. At the crown of her hair is a single black handprint.

It takes a minute for Alec to realize what it means. "Are you--like me?" he chokes out. He’s not ashamed of his sexuality, never has been, but to say that it hadn’t set him apart from his family would be a lie. It would be so nice not to be alone in this. His eyes are stinging.

When Izzy turns back to look at him, her mouth is turned down, her face sad. "No, I’m sorry.”

Alec shakes his head. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for.”

“Clary and I realized that she was my soulmate a while ago. She must have gotten the mark the first time she did my hair and it just didn't show up until I bleached my hair from black to blonde."

She sits down next to him on that battered piano stool. "That's why I think -- I _know_ that not everyone marries their soulmates. Sometimes, I figure, soulmates are just really good friends, you know? People that get you, people that you connect with."

He reaches out and touches the handprint in that shining black curtain, so much smaller than his own. The edges are blurred, like the touch was obviously a quick swipe. It looks like a painting. Izzy had wanted to get to know Clary, she had desperately wanted a friend, and Clary's soul had answered that call.

"Alec," Izzy says softly, head tilted towards him, "if you remove family and soulmates from the equation, would you really want to marry Andrew?"

"No," Alec admits in a rush. He hadn't let himself think the words directly, let alone speak them out loud. It feels like he’s making a confession to Faustina, who looks serenely down upon him. Maybe the truth, maybe the bravery to admit it, is the mercy she offers. "No, I wouldn't."

“Then you know what you have to do.” She holds out her hand, palm resting upwards open on her knee, and Alec silently takes it.

\----

He’s sitting alone on the bench, staring at his hands when he hears a knock. Izzy had left a while ago, promising to take care of everything. Alec shudders to think what’s happening out of this room. Probably a lot of people discussing what a disappointment is. He doesn't know why he's so afraid to disappoint people in his life, they never seemed to hold the same regard for him. He’d long undone his tie, and the ends dangle, crumpled over his chest.

A second later, Andrew comes through the door.

He’d been expecting him. “We should talk,” Alec tells him. The words stick in his throat, unpleasant and bitter. Alec knows what he needs to do, but he doesn't particularly want to. Sometimes the right choice is the hardest one to carry out, but if doing the right thing was always easy, then he supposes people would be a lot better than they are. 

Andrew grins nervously. “That’s never something someone wants to hear.”

“It’s not always a bad thing,” Alec protests weakly.

“Is it now?” His eyes are clear blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless day. Alec feels like a real shit. But that's the problem with doing the right thing too late; it mitigates some of the damage but not nearly enough.

Doesn't mean you should continue doing the wrong thing, though, in hopes that it might one day be right. It won't be and the longer you live a lie, the harder it is to escape. Weirdly, it makes Alec think of his mom.

Alec feels himself curl up a little in shame. “Well--yeah,” he admits.

Andrew nods jerkily, slipping his hands into his pockets. He has his lucky calculator in there, Alec realizes and has to smile a little fondly. God, he’s such a _nerd_. In another life, Alec would have been honored to be his soulmate.

He’s honored in this one, too. Even if he does have to end things.

This is the first and last time he'll see Andrew in his black tuxedo, Alec thinks. He looks so handsome, everything that Alec could and _should_ want. Everything that Alec had always dreamed about, but that was the thing about dreams: sometimes they were better off being just that, dreams. Real life could be so much better, could present you with someone like Magnus, who Alec hadn’t even known how to wish for. Maybe Andrew had been perfect for him at the time, Alec couldn't say. Maybe he had a hundred potential soulmates walking around, but Andrew was the first one he had met.

Maybe you got the soulmate you secretly thought you deserved.

"Is this really what you want?" Alec asks him. He doesn’t say it with cruelty, just frank curiosity.

Andrew shrugs and gestures at his suit, giving Alec a nervous _what the fuck_ look. This is probably something both of them should have examined a little more closely before getting to this point. For two people who essentially investigate things for a living, they're really bad at investigating their own motives and feelings. But then again, most people are. 

“I’ll marry you if you can tell me that this is what you really want,” Alec tells him honestly.

“We make sense together,” Andrew says, which is not an answer at all. Sensible is a good reason to buy a pair of comfy shoes, not to irrevocably tie your life to another.

Alec lets out a deep breath.

Andrew clears his throat. "Is this about your – Magnus?"

The question catches him by surprise. He hadn’t really thought about Magnus through this at all, other than the dull ache of loss that’s becoming his constant companion. This is about him and Andrew, nothing else.

“No,” Alec says, “this is about the fact that you deserve better than your second choice. We both do.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Andrew says with feeling, and Alec’s heart breaks a little. At this rate, he doesn’t think he’ll have much left. Andrew looks around, lost, then sits next to Alec, rubbing the palms of his hands against his pants. “You know, I read this study about arranged marriages. And the conclusion was that a good match with similar goals brought just as much long term happiness as love.” He laughs humorlessly. “It’s going great for me so far.”

“I read that study, too,” Alec replies slowly, “but I don’t think I’m ready to give up on the love just yet.” He puts his hand on top of Andrew’s, where it has come to rest on his own knee, “and I don’t think you should either.”

Andrew looks like he would like nothing so much as to slap Alec’s hand away and Alec mentally prepares himself to get slapped. Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time, probably won’t be the last, especially if he keeps spending time with Izzy.

But Andrew surprises him yet again. He flips his hand over and briefly gives Alec’s hand a squeeze before standing up. He swipes at his eyes quickly, then says, “Yeah, okay. I'm a forensic accountant, I know when a case is lost. I knew before this, but I--”

“Yeah,” Alec answers. He does know – hope is a hell of a motivator.

“If you don't mind,” Andrew says, not looking at him, “I think I’m going to leave out the back way. I don’t want to see – well, anybody right now.” He opens the door.

“Hey, Andrew?”

Andrew shoots him an irritated look. Oh well. Alec’s used to that too.

“Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“I think I want to be alone.” Andrew swallows.

Alec nods, and as Andrew turns to leave, he calls out, “Hey.”

“Christ, Alec, _what_?” There’s a hint of an exasperated smile on his mouth. Alec’s relieved to see it. Things will be okay between them, maybe, eventually.

“If you change your mind about being alone, you could call that guy from the bachelor’s party. The one you were talking to all night? He seemed really into you.”

Andrew’s expression is puzzled for a second before it clears up in understanding. “Oh, Lorenzo?”

 _Lorenzo_. Figures he has such a douchey name. Alec forces a pleasant expression on his face. From Andrew’s smug expression, he probably fails. “Yeah, him.”

\----

Hours later, when Alec finally peels himself off the bench, he staggers out to the main sanctuary. He’s hungry, achy, and too tired to give a fuck what anyone says. He mentally braces himself for the hailstorm of shit he’s going to catch but the atrium and the chapel beyond that are empty.

Izzy and Jace sit at the front of the church before the alter. Facing them, he sees a red-headed young woman with her back to him sitting next to a man on the pews. It’s Clary and Simon. They all barely know each other but the entire Lightwood family is coming apart and of course, Simon is here for his girlfriend and Clary – well, she’s here for her soulmate. Alec feels a wave of longing sweep through him. Not for a soulmate, because he’d already had that and rejected it, but for someone who understands him on a fundamental level like Clary does with Izzy. He doesn’t need them to be perfect, he already had that too. He just needs a perfect connection.

“Hey,” he says. Izzy and Jace look up from where Jace is eating the communion wafers and Izzy’s glaring at him. “Really?” Alec huffs.

Jace has the good grace to look up at him guiltily. “You were in there for a long time. I got hungry.” He snorts around a mouthful of wafer. “I hardly think this is the most shocking thing that’s happened today.”

“We got rid of everyone for you.” Izzy stands up, brushing off the front of her dress.

Before Jace can open his mouth, Clary cuts in, “Not kill them, just sent them along to the reception early. Nothing soothes ruffled feathers like expensive food and an open bar.” She looks at Jace, who seems put out. “Jesus, Jace, can you not?” she asks, but it’s not without fondness.

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain? That’s _blasphemy_ , Clarissa,” Jace says around a mouthful of crackers.

“I guess it’s finally over,” Izzy announces. “Want to grab something to eat?”

“Ooh,” Simon says, “I know a good bagel shop. How does everyone feel about schmear?”

“Ambivalent,” Jace answers and scoops up another handful of crackers for the road.

They head out in a shambling group looking like the after-picture of a “just say no to drugs” campaign. Standing outside, Alec looks around, startled to see the world had gone on just as it did before. His life might feel irrevocably altered but life goes on. Jace brings up the rear with his arm slung around Simon’s shoulders.

Things can never be what they were, Alec realizes with a pang. It will never again just be him, Izzy, and Jace against the world. That time has passed, as all things must. And now, it’s time to look to the future.

“Maybe I’ll catch up later,” Alec says. “There’s still someone I need to talk to.

“Tell Magnus that we said hi,” Clary says, grinning up at him and touching his arm.

\---

If this were a romantic comedy, Alec thinks, hailing a cab, then he would go see Magnus right now. Actually, if it were a romantic comedy, everybody would probably all be slightly better versions of themselves: less messy, nicer, without all of the contradictions and mistakes that mark them as real.

He slips into the cab and gives the address, leaning back in the cracked leather seat. It smells like cigarettes and poor choices back here, and Alec cracks the window a little desperately.

But it’s not a romantic comedy. This story isn’t about Magnus or their relationships and it never has been. It’s Alec slowly writing the story of his life, and though he doesn’t know how it’ll ultimately end, he knows what he won’t let happen. He’s in charge now.

When he arrives at the office, he passes through security quickly and takes the elevator directly to the top floor. He gets a few strange stares for wearing a three-piece tuxedo or possibly because he’s heading into the office on what it nominally his wedding day, but he grits his teeth and stares straight ahead.

He finds his mother exactly where he expected: at her desk, in the one place she can control everything. She took shelter here when her marriage was falling apart, when Izzy got wild and she didn’t know how to connect any longer, and now, when her eldest child is all grown up and jilting people at the altar.

“Can I see your soulmate mark?” he asks abruptly. She looks up from a thick stack of papers. He’s aware that what he’s asking just isn’t _done_. But he thinks that the secrecy is what has shielded the practice of soulmates for so long, and that’s allowed the rumors and misinformation to proliferate.

“What are you doing here?”

Alec shrugs. “Couldn’t do it.”

“He’s your soulmate,” she says helplessly, looking totally lost. He’s never seen her at such a loss, looking so bewildered, and it hurts him more than he thought it ever would. His proud, beautiful mother looking like she could cry.

“Take off your gloves,” Alec says softly, aware that it’s a bit like he just asked to see his mother’s breasts. Soulmate marks are a private, intimate thing. But they shouldn’t be. It’s why there’s so much mysticism surrounding soul marks, so much of the meaning shrouded mystery, and it’s been used to control people. It’s no coincidence that things molder and fester in the dark.

Maryse regards him steadily for a moment and then reaches over with his left hand and slips the glove off of her right. Wrapped around her slim hand, there’s a dark palm print.

“Why did you marry him?” Alec says, staring at the dark lines of his father’s hand splayed across his mom’s delicate hand like a brand.

Her shoulders straighten. “It’s how things are done in families like ours.”

She seems so sure of this fact, but Alec’s made a career out of digging up ugly secrets, of finding the truths that people would rather never see the light of day. He knows when his mother is lying to him. “What aren’t you telling me?” he pleads with her. “Mom,” he says. “ _Mama_.”

He hasn’t called her that since he was a little boy and upon hearing it, she flinches like she’s been shot. She looks like it hurts just about as much too. She looks away, her lower jaw trembles. it’s such a clear, beautiful day outside. None of the lights are on in her office, though, and Alec circles the room, turning on the lamps.

“He was my soulmate,” she says eventually, “but I was never his.”

Alec stops in his tracks, just shy of her desk. He’s going to be sick, he just knows it. His mother has spent the better part of her life married to a man who she’s always known wasn’t her soulmate. And if acceptance and want is a large part of it, then he never had any of those feelings for her. Maryse has chained herself to a man who would never love her, who refused to; the irrefutable evidence is as stark as the black mark on her hand. And for what, because that’s just what you _do_? That’s such utter _bullshit_.

Alec has based his life on a _lie_ and very nearly destroyed himself and Andrew for it. He takes a stumbling step back and falls into a chair, curving his body forward and covering his face with his hands. He can’t _breathe._

He’s startled when he feels his mom grip his wrist. Insistently, she tugs his hands down, forces him to look at her. She’s crouched down in front of him, face tilted up. “I never regretted marrying him. Not a minute. He gave me you guys.”

Alec sits up to stare at her. “Mom, it’s okay to regret something and to also not regret the consequences.” People are capable of all kinds of dualities, just as Alec is grateful to finally understand what drives his mom – fierce loyalty and deep-rooted shame – and to find out that it is horrifyingly close to his own motives, all nearly too late to keep from repeating her mistakes and fucking up his entire future. For a life lesson, it’s an expensive one, and he suspects he’s not done paying quite yet. “Why did you lie?”

Maryse studies her hands like they belong to a stranger. Maybe she wishes they did. “What else could I have done?”

“Told the truth,” Alec says.

“I’m not,” she bites her lip, “I’m not brave like you.”

He’s never thought of himself as brave before. Hearing it from his mother now soothes something ragged in his chest, something fractured years ago when he was too afraid to ask her what she thought of him, so he convinced himself that it must be bad. Perhaps she’d thought he was brave all along.

Maryse stands up and slips into the chair next to him, silent for a while. “You know, he cuts his toenails in bed,” she says finally.

As far as olive branches go, it’s not a bad one, and Alec feels himself grin. The whole family knows and they all find it equally repulsive but he never thought his mom minded. She’d never said anything.

“Oh, yeah, he’s the _worst,”_ Alec agrees. He loves his father, probably always will despite the uneasy truce they’ve settled into the last few years. He makes do with his annual Christmas and birthday phone calls, but that’s another hard lesson he’s had to learn – that desperately loving someone does not mean that they have to love you back as much, even if they are your parent.

Sometimes they do, though.

“You know,” Alec says, “Magnus isn’t even hoping to turn a profit in his company and it’s funded by grants.”

“I heard.” She turns her sharp, assessing gaze toward him, all business again. “This is going to hurt us. I’m going to have to answer to the board for this.”

He can’t help the fact that he feels like he failed her, even though destroying a company that was objectively _good_ would be an even bigger betrayal to himself. He might have still done it if circumstances were even slightly different, and he doesn’t know what that says about him. Probably that he’s human and he’s flawed.

“We can weather the storm,” he assures her. “Do you ever wonder why we do the things that we do?”

“It’s our job. It’s who we are.” Her answer is as sharp and pointed as her heels.

“No,” Alec says, shaking his head. “It’s what we _do_. And just because it’s something we did doesn’t mean it’s something we have to continue.”

The hardest thing about changing, he’s beginning to realize, is arriving at the understanding that there doesn’t need to be a divine moment, that no one has to appear to you on the road to Damascus. At any point in the long, winding road of life, you can just pivot and go the other way.

It’s as simple and as difficult as that.

The clock above his mother's desk catches his eye. Duty to family shouldn’t be by rote; it’s a decision that you should make each and every time.

Impulsively, he gets up, winds around her desk, and takes a careful step onto his mother’s executive chair. It’s the type that rolls and it would be just his luck to fall out of the chair, hit his head, and die in a puddle bullshit self-righteousness, but it’s a risk he has to take. But this is why, as a general rule, that he doesn’t _do_ grand gestures.

“Alec, what in the world are you –” She stops as he steps down, clock in his hands.

“We start over,” Alec tells her, finally sure of himself. Far more sure than he’s ever been before. His life was going one way, and now he’s changing direction. There’s no shame in it, just as there’s no pride in being unable to admit you were wrong. “The past is done. Now, what do you want to do?”

She stares at the clock for a long minute where it sits in his hands, ticking quietly in the silent office.

“Put it on the floor,” she says, and he squats down, carefully laying the clock on the hardwood between them. Without its place of prominence on the wall, it looks like any normal clock, maybe a little nicer than most, but just a set of cogs and wheels. Nothing more than the power they gave it.

Maryse looks up at Alec now, reluctant grin wide and radiant; she looks twenty years younger and happier than Alec has ever seen her. She looks _light,_ as light as Alec feels, like he could fly at any moment. She takes a hold of his arm and together, they bring their shoes down on the clock, smashing it to pieces.


	13. Chapter 13

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Magnus grumbles, settling back into the oversized executive-style chair with a blissful sigh that's completely at odds with his words. "A week before Phase II launches, and I'm jetting off to a private island with my boyfriend." 

Though they've been dating for a little bit, it still sends a little shiver of excitement up his spine to be called Magnus' boyfriend, mostly because he didn't really have faith that they would ever get here. "Think of it as a very expensive apology from the Lightwoods for nearly destroying your company." 

Besides, it would all be going away soon enough. The thing about being an unbridled source of evil capitalism was that it was profitable. Investing in smaller companies and helping them grow could also be profitable, but on a far smaller scale. As it turns out, nice guys don't finish last so much as finish at Walmart shopping the clearance aisle. 

For the most part, Alec doesn't mind saying goodbye to all these little luxuries, but he's really going to fucking miss this private plane. 

Magnus snorts inelegantly. "You all _wish_." 

"No," Alec says seriously, bringing his hand up to brush a kiss across his knuckles, "I don't wish." He looks out the window at the wisps of clouds, fingers threading through Magnus'. This high up, the air is so clear, and so is the right decision. Down in the smog, it's not so easy.

"I'm getting a shipment in a few days," Magnus frets. "What if there's a mistake and I'm not there to catch it?" 

"Magnus, you have a whole _company_ of people working for you." 

Magnus gives him a strange look. "All important shipments go directly to my house. The bottom floor is a storage unit." 

"Really?" Alec had wondered about it, but it seemed in poor taste to ask your newly-acquired boyfriend why half of his apartment was such a dump. 

Magnus shrugs. "Saves money, keeps my secrets safe. No one goes poking around a building that looks that unimpressive." 

No one except Alec. Alec wants to be in on those secrets, but he supposes that he hasn't done a whole lot to earn that just yet. Trust is a funny thing; you can want to trust another person - crave it, even - but it can't be forced. It grows organically like love, at least that's what Jace had told him in between bites of organic tofurkey Clary made for him. Jace privately confided to Alec that it tasted how he imagined a dirty thong would, but he ate it for Clary. Alec supposes that's love too.

Jace, who is going back to school to learn the business. His wild, buck-the-trends spirit is just what the company needs right now. Alec simply doesn't have it in him to be a rebel; his socks always match his boxers. What Alec is going to do with himself, he has no clue. It feels _great_. 

"How do you know it won't get stolen?" 

Magnus shoots him a pitying look. "Why do you think it looks like a flophouse from the outside? No one bothers with it. Besides, when I go away, I hire Peaches to stand guard." 

Alec twisted in his seat to stare at Magnus. "How _do_ you know Peaches?" 

"Everyone knows him," Magnus says dismissively. 

"Maybe I should get a job as your security guard," Alec murmured. 

"I could always use someone to help me with research. Or, barring that, I would like a secretary." 

"I think they're called administrative assistants now." 

But Magnus isn't paying any attention to him. He's busy staring off into some pervy vision, starry-eyed. "I think you'd look awfully fetching in a sweater set." 

Alec refuses to dignify that with a response. 

When they arrive at the resort, Magnus whistles. "The Lightwoods must be _really_ sorry."

"Well, this Lightwood is," Alec says. "Besides, we're not staying here." 

"Of course," Magnus says with a huff, but his eyes are shining, and he's in a good enough mood. "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride." 

"C'mon, bridesmaid," Alec says easily and takes his hand, leading him through the lobby where he's greeted by an austere-faced man in a blue suit. "Mr. Lightwood," he says, "your transportation awaits." 

Magnus raises his eyebrows but follows Alec out the back doors where the resort curls around a natural cove with a line of boat slips dotting the far left. Alec leads Magnus to a shining white speedboat where they embark. 

A short ride later and they're pulling up to a tiny island with a not-so-tiny hillside home surrounded by infinity pools. And a landing pad. 

"How much money does your family have?" Magnus demands. 

"A lot," Alec answers, a little embarrassed by the ostentation for the first time in his life. But he needn't have been. Magnus _loves_ ostentation. 

"I should have known with your extravagant lifestyle of brown bag lunches," Magnus says, looking around appreciatively. 

The main room is beautiful with open walls overlooking the steep hillside, dotted with tropical flowers cascading down the sides. The whole thing is a lush oasis, and Magnus inhales deeply. "Smells like money. And flowers." 

Alec tries to see things through Magnus' eyes, but he can't quite get there. He thinks maybe it's because Magnus is simply more artistic than him, but that's not it. Alec grew up with wealth, surrounded by beautiful things. Magnus, who had been raised by a single mother in a military town on the other side of the world, had seen the harshness life had to offer and appreciated the beauty all the more for it. 

For whatever reason, he seems to think Alec is one of these beautiful things too. 

"Hey," Alec says, taking Magnus' hand and leading him to the back. 

The bedroom, where Alec and Magnus drop their suitcases, is filled with along one side by a wall of glass doors that slide apart to open the entire wall, with a large bed commanding the center, haloed in gauzy white fabric gathered at each bedpost. 

There's a completely stocked bar in the corner, along with an impressive arrangement of flowers in blinding colors. Magnus crosses the room and touches one of the largest petals, a large sweeping red petal that looked nearly like a burning leaf. "Anthurium." 

"You have those in your apartment, right?" He'd seen them on the console by the front door the first time he'd been over there, but he hadn't asked about them. He'd had other things on his mind that night. 

"Probably my favorite flower," Magnus says, rubbing the waxy petals between his thumb and forefinger gently. "Did you know that it adapts to nearly any environment?" 

Alec can see why it's Magnus' favorite. A showy beauty of a flower that adapts to nearly any hardship? It doesn't take much of an intuitive leap. "They're lovely," he says. He touches the delicate petals of a smaller flower in soft purples and blush. 

Magnus answers his unasked question. "Frangipani." 

"And they mean?" 

Magnus grins at him, incandescent. "They mean love." 

Alec kisses him. There's nothing bittersweet about this. A part of Alec had known from the very moment they'd first touched that it would end up this way. He'd hoped, at least. Magnus steps closer, bodies slotting together easily, Alec skimming his fingers up and down the curve of his back. 

They've had sex a few times, each time a little frenzied, and once, embarrassingly, in the bathroom of an establishment where they are no longer welcome, but this time feels different. They don't have jobs to rush off to, no companies to run. Right now, they only have each other and nothing to do except enjoy their time together. 

Alec walks Magnus back towards the bed. The damp breeze from the open windows rustles the sheets as Magnus gracefully tumbles down, pulling Alec down on top of him. He kicks his legs out, and his flip-flops go sailing over the side. 

Alec laughs as Magnus reverses their positions, successfully bracketing him in with his arms. He leans in and kisses Alec, his eyes falling closed trying to memorize the feel of Magnus' stubble against his chin, the feel of his soft lips against his. 

"I would do terrible things for you," Magnus says tenderly, kissing both of Alec's closed eyes. 

"Like what?" He feels himself grinning stupidly, helplessly. 

"Stay at a Holiday Inn," Magnus offers thoughtfully, hand brushing against Alec's shirt, skillfully popping the buttons open. 

"Oh _no_ ," Alec says in mock horror. 

He sits up, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders and pushing Magnus back so that he's sitting up in his lap. 

Alec hooks his thumbs beneath the hem of Magnus' shirt, the silky jewel-toned color edged with fine stitching that Alec recognizes as quality without being able to articulate why. He much prefers this vision anyway: Magnus with miles of bare skin, hair wild. Alec kisses his jaw, works his way down Magnus's neck, his Adam's apples, which bobs as he swallows convulsively, tilting his head back to give Alec more room. Alec nips his shoulder playfully, smiling to the skin before licking a stripe up his neck using the tip of his tongue, tasting the sea there, the heavy perfume of the plumeria blossoming over the hill. 

Magnus groans, lifts his hips as Alec slides his pants off, the silky boxers beneath them. Magnus turns over pointedly, bending his leg and tucking it underneath his torso. 

They don't do it this way often. Magnus has issues with vulnerability; Alec gets that. He doesn't do Magnus the disrespect of asking if he's sure – Magnus is a grown man, and if he's offering, he's sure. But he does take his time, skimming his fingers over the curve of Magnus' back, in-between the sharp jut of his shoulder blades. 

He sucks two fingers into his mouth, getting them wet and sloppy before he trails them over the firm muscles of Magnus' ass and dips down, fingers skimming against the tight ring of muscle there and breaching it slowly. 

Magnus' breath catches, his shoulders hitch, and Alec presses a soothing kiss on the knobs of his spine, as he pushes his fingers inwards, nearly too dry. He does a little disgraceful shimmy down the bed and lowers his mouth, licking around his fingers, easing the passage. Magnus makes a high-pitched sound and stretches his leg further, giving Alec an unobstructed view of his fingers disappearing into Magnus' body, getting messy and nasty with it, and Alec dips back down, using his tongue to fuck Magnus open right next to his fingers.

Once Magnus is loose and wet, canting his hips, using his leverage against the bed to shove back onto Alec's fingers, Alec kisses his ass apologetically before withdrawing his fingers. Magnus makes a disappointed noise but stays put as Alec leans over the side of the bed, grabs his suitcase, and procures a little packet of lube from the front zippered compartment. He says a brief prayer of thanks that the TSA didn't take more interest in his luggage than they did as he pulls off his pants and rips the packet open with his teeth, dribbling a generous amount onto his cock and slicking it down. The rest goes onto Magnus' ass, in between his cheeks.

"Ready?" Alec asks, holding the base of his dick.

Magnus grunts and pushes back, catching the crown of Alec's dick against his rim, and that's pretty much all of that. Can't get much more explicit. Alec grips himself and eases the head in, arching his back and craning his neck to watch the tip of his dick disappear into the wet head of Magnus' body, the flutter of the muscles against his skin.

Alec gives up once their bodies are flush, licks at the salt of Magnus' skin, the sweat pooling in the hollows. He curls his fingers over Magnus' hip, pulling out and then sliding back in, setting a slow and steady pace to juxtapose their fast and batshit crazy relationship thus far. Magnus' gives in beautifully, his body loose and hot and insides gripping Alec's cock as he rocks forward, getting deeper each time. Pleasure zips over his skin, low in his belly.

He changes his angle, feels Magnus tense up, back arching as he cries out. Alec hits that spot, over and over, reaching beneath Magnus to grab his dick, hard and weeping trapped between his body and the bed, hands spasming against the bedsheets, black fingernails against the soft heather gray: Alec thinks he'll remember this moment for the rest of his life. He curls his body around Magnus' as if he can shield him from everything unkind life has to offer. It only takes a few strokes of his hand before Magnus is crying out, voice hoarse, clenching around Alec so sweet and tight.

"Can I? Can I?" Alec says urgently. 

"Yeah," Magnus says, body limp, voice fucked out

Alec grinds his hips against Magnus' ass, closes his eyes, and lets go. He empties himself in Magnus' body, gets as close as he can get without them sharing the same space until he's done, body shivering.

Magnus reaches around and gives Alec's ass a half-hearted slap, which he supposes is his cue to get off of him. Alec presses a quick kiss to the back of Magnus' sweaty neck and extracts himself, rolling onto the bed next to him. He looks over to where Magnus is still sprawled on his belly, face tilted towards him.

"We're not going to make it to dinner, are we?" Alec asks.

"Not unless you count a liquid dinner," Magnus says, gesturing lazily at the bar cart that Alec had nearly forgotten. Of course, Magnus remembered it, the observant lush.

"Hmm," Alec says, getting up. He still smells like stale airplane now with a thin layer of dried sweat and spunk. Shower time. "Make me that fruity pink thing you made last time, will you?"

Magnus laughs and gets up on the opposite side, circling around the bed. "Of course. It'll never stop being hilarious seeing a tiny pink drink in your enormous hands." He heads over to the cart, not bothering with clothes. He winces a little with each step and Alec's mind could go to terribly filthy places, but he needs a shower, a drink, and a powernap before revisiting those particular activities.

"Magnus?" Alec says before Magnus gets too far. He turns, eyebrows raised expectantly. Alec stands, closes the last few inches of space between them.

He reaches out and takes his hand. "Hey, I'll come work for you." 

Magnus' answering grin is brilliant. "Yeah?" 

He turns his hand over and kisses his wrist, right above his pulse. "Yeah." 

"Are you going to be my administrative assistant?" 

"If you want," Alec answers mildly. 

"Are you going to wear those little sweater vests?" 

Magnus cackles as Alec scowls and drops his hand.

"How do you feel about horn-rimmed glasses?" Magnus calls out as Alec stomps towards the bathroom as huffily as he can manage while completely nude and very slightly awkwardly proportioned as all tall people are.

"Maybe," Alec allows, knowing already that he'll wear them, he'll wear any of the possibly dumb and probably sexually suggestive outfits Magnus chooses for him because Alec doesn't _really_ care. He lives to see the way Magnus' eyes light up with happiness. 

Alec sighs and closes the bathroom door behind him, still hearing Magnus laugh in the other room.

He'll do it all, he knows, and more, so long as they do it together. 

\--- 

Alec steps out of the shower, grabs one of the fluffy white towels, and quickly dries himself off. He wraps it around his waist as he steps in front of the mirror, clearing the fog off with the back of one hand and then studying himself in the mirror. 

Inevitably, his eyes fall downwards. Alec looks at the handprint thoughtfully. It's a part of him now, just as Magnus' scars are a part of him. He touches the handprint lightly. It doesn't matter -- he decides who his soulmate is and not the universe. He _chooses_ Magnus, and he thinks that's a hell of a lot more important than some random mark. 

Soulmarks are not inherently bad, to be fair. Izzy found a best friend, his mother finally found her freedom, and Alec found his truth and the voice he'd always lacked to speak it. He supposes like everything in life, soulmarks are just what you make of them.

He sends another silent apology Andrew's way, but he doesn't care what biology says. He decides who he's going to love, who he deserves. And he's going to work to deserve Magnus. 

Alec grins at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing himself. He's happy, he realizes. He's never seen himself this way before. Something wavers in front of him, and he leans in closer in the mirror, blinking. For a moment, it seemed like the edges blurred on his soulmark, but as he studies it, there's nothing markedly different, the edges as crisp and dark as ever. 

Alec shakes his head. He hadn't slept at all on the plane, and jetlag is beginning to catch up to him. "Hey, Magnus," he calls out, chuckling, "maybe I should skip that drink." 

From the bedroom, he hears the crystal glasses shattering. 

Heart racing, Alec runs out of the bathroom to where Magnus is standing in the middle of the room, a halo of shattered glass around him. He's pulled on some pants and his discarded flip flops.

"Magnus, what the hell happened?" Alec yells, looking around for his own shoes. He's going to have to find a broom somewhere, he thinks, his mind already racing ahead. 

But Magnus isn't looking at him. He's staring down at his hand, trembling and empty in front of him, his palm dark black, a perfect match to the altered handprint now on Alec's chest where they'd first touched.


End file.
